A Most Precious Gift
by Wahoogal06
Summary: Looks like Clark isn't the only Kent with a secret or a mission, and old friends and new resurface and impact the family in unexpected ways. What'll happen when an unusual event threatens to destroy the Kents from within? Will they survive? #4 of 5.
1. Chapter 1

**Part I**

"**What Was Lost"**

**Chapter 1**

_**Phoenix, Arizona,**_** February 14, 2019. **Maybelle Ritter was in the midst of working one of her cons as she waited in the motel room for her mark with only the television to keep her company. The middle-aged woman lounged on the pillows propped up against the headboard, languidly flipping through the channels of the set down by her feet. A hair care infomercial came on and she unconsciously lifted a hand to her head, fluffing her limp, too dark hair with its dried split ends. Soon her vapid mind began to wander and she found herself taking a trip down Memory Lane to look back on her dismal life.

She had generally considered herself to be lucky, to a point; in her twenties and thirties she'd gotten by on her looks, associating herself with rich, powerful men who would buy her the material things she'd desperately craved during her youth. But all that changed after a year and a half as a married man's mistress. Their relationship had begun while he was married to a lonely, wealthy, 88 year old widow from an upright and respectable family. Her fortune alone had been what enticed him into matrimony and so long as the old bag was bedridden he treated Maybelle like a queen, keeping her in furs and jewels during their stolen time together while waiting for his wife to die. The exquisite frippery proved to be more than enough to keep Maybelle hanging around…even as his true, increasingly sinister nature became more apparent. It wasn't until several months after his wife's passing that she finally saw him for what he truly was and screwed up what little courage she had to leave him in the dead of night, disappearing like so much dust in the wind—as if she'd never even existed at all.

After the affair, her life took a decidedly downward turn. Her looks were shot at the ripe old age of thirty-five—her skin was brown and freckled, her black hair coarse and frizzy, and her teeth a bit yellow and jagged in places where the veneers had popped off. She also hadn't a penny to her name save for what little she'd carried away with her when all was said and done. Maybelle had become accustomed to the posh lifestyle her lover kept her in and when it ended she found herself without a pot to piss in, much to her chagrin; the intervening twelve years had not seen her recover her earlier footing either. In the rich men department she was being beat out for their affection and their wallets by tarts in too-short, too-tight miniskirts, and when she set her sights a tad lower even _those_ men began to realize what a drain she was on their resources, dumping her before she got her hooks into them for too much cash. So Maybelle turned to running confidence schemes just like her mother had before her.

Phoenix saw her stringing along a forty-some odd year old man with thinning hair and a pot belly with one of her Alabama Real Estate games. He had at least 75,000 dollars in the bank that he was prepared to part with in the hopes of getting triple his money back in just six short months. His name was Dale Burton and as far as she could tell he wasn't all that bright—and that was saying a lot.

An amorous sigh escaped her lips. She hadn't had a man in her life in almost a year and all that time alone was beginning to take its toll on her self-image. _He isn't bad-looking_, she mused, ignoring the infomercial blaring on the TV. _In a double-wide, trailer park kind of way. Still… _A quick glance at the clock told her she had an hour and a half to kill before he arrived with the money. Maybelle leapt up from the bed and darted into the bathroom without a minute to lose.

* * *

_**Daily Planet**_**, Metropolis, February 14, 2019. **"Happy Valentine's Day, Honey," Clark whispered into her ear as he leaned over his wife while she worked, a bouquet of red roses in his other hand. Lois turned and matched his kiss with equal fervor then caught sight of the flowers

"Oh Clark, they're lovely!" she exclaimed, getting up and taking them into her arms.

"I'm only sorry I wasn't able to pick them out for you myself," he told her, standing up straight and glancing at one of the overhead TV screens. Lois followed his gaze and saw footage of Superman receiving a dozen red roses from several patients at Children's Hospital-Metropolis.

She playfully swatted his arm. "Oh you!" Nestling her face in amongst the sweet buds and inhaling deeply, she replied in a voice so quiet only he could hear, "You're forgiven…this time."

"Thank you, oh Magnanimous One." Clark smirked and made a deep bow before kissing her impertinently on the forehead and returning to his own desk. "So, what do you want to do for dinner tonight?"

"Nothing fancy; I might have to work late with Perry on the layouts again. The man's been grooming me for six years and he _still_ doesn't trust me."

"How conveniently we forget the giant, gaping hole that went out on the front page…"

Lois grew incensed at the recollection. "One time! That was one time five and a half _years_ ago and it wasn't even my fault! I checked and re-checked that layout before I sent it down to the printers—_they're_ the ones who lost the ad and printed the blank space, not me! For crying out loud, my own husband won't even let me live it down!"

Clark couldn't help but chuckle at her the more indignant she got. "Well since you two might be working late, is it ok if the kids and I do take-out?"

She grimaced at his segue. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Chinese?"

"Ok," she reluctantly agreed. Then, under her breath, she added, "Just don't let Jason pick it up alone; you know how nervous I get about him flying overseas."

"I won't," he replied, equally concerned for his son's safety.

* * *

"WHEE!" Haley called out as she soared through the clouds in the arms of her father. She wore a light brown coat over her clothes and her dark wavy locks swirled about in the breeze while she held her arms out on each side like a bird. "Higher Dad, let's go higher!"

He clutched the nine year old close to his chest as she stared straight ahead of her with glee. "Not tonight, Hales; any higher and the air will be too thin for you to breathe."

"Aww…"

"I can't believe Mom still doesn't trust me!" his seventeen year old son cut in, flying up alongside him on the right. "I've been able to fly for awhile now but she still acts like it's my first time out the window! Jes--!"

_Jason._" The curt admonishment was all the boy needed to stop himself mid-blaspheme and Clark un-furrowed his brow as he saw the opportunity to speak. "You've been flying, yes, but not nearly as much as I have and your endurance isn't anywhere near where your mother and I would like it to be. Neither of us is comfortable with you flying long distances alone just yet."

Jason turned to glare at his father. "But you used to let me fly by myself out to Smallville all the time!"

"That was different," Clark replied quietly.

"How? How was that different?"

"You were flying over land then, not large bodies of water, and were anything to happen to you we knew where you were going and how to find you."

The teenager frowned even deeper but no longer pressed the issue. Clark knew his children would be pushing boundaries and testing limits, not only in their daily lives but also where their super-powers were concerned, and he feared for the day when they went too far and he wasn't able to save them before they toppled over the edge.

* * *

"Perfect timing," Lois announced as she heard two pairs of booted feet land with a thud in the living room. She finished hanging up her jacket on the hall tree and strode into the kitchen. "I just got in myself."

Haley scrambled out of her father's grip and rushed straight into her mother's arms. "Mommy, we went _flying_! And Dad took me real high and I got to touch the clouds!"

"Oh really?" She arched an eyebrow at her husband.

"We weren't _that_ high," he replied, strolling into the kitchen with several small parcels of food in his hands. Setting them down on the counter, he added, "The cloud cover was low tonight—at least over the Midwest."

"Uh huh." She eyed her son as he waltzed into the room with the rest of their meal. "And how was your flight, Jason?" The boy moved sullenly back out of the room without saying a word and sped down the hall to change and wash up for supper, for once without being told. Lois put her daughter down. "Haley, go wash your hands, and then I want to hear all about your day at school."

"Ok." The little girl super-sped down the hall after her brother and was soon out of sight.

Hands on her hips, she asked, "He's still mad at me about the flying thing?"

Clark moved about, setting the table. "Correction—he's still mad at _us_ about the flying thing."

She moved to retrieve the silverware, continuing the conversation as she worked. "So you still agree with me that he shouldn't be flying alone, especially off-continent?"

He stilled at her comment, the last plate in his hands. "If I recall Iwas the one who told _you_ I didn't think it was a good idea to let him fly alone overseas." Clark stood by the counter and considered how best to explain the situation to his wife. "Think of him as if he were a pilot, Lois," he instructed. "He's been practicing, yes, but he just doesn't have enough air time under his belt to be taking on any solo, globe-trekking journeys just yet."

"Ok." She set down the last fork and knife beside him and released the breath she'd been holding. "Ok. It's just that I _hate_ feeling like the bad guy in all of this, you know? I have the sneaking suspicion that he resents me more for these restrictions than he does you just because I can't take off and jet anywhere I want like the rest of you can…or will." Lois let loose a sad sigh as she pictured the day her young daughter would take flight and leave her Earth bound mother behind.

Clark drew her to him, and wrapped his arms and cape around her lithe frame. "Maybe on the surface he thinks that," he whispered to his wife, stroking her hair with one hand, "But deep down he knows that the two of us are united when it comes to doing what's best for him." He took her chin in his hand and led her gaze up to meet his own. "And as far as jet-setting goes you wouldn't want to go anywhere without me anyway so it's only convenient that I get to be the one to take you there."

"And carry my luggage—you're a very handy bellhop," she added cheekily.

"Right, right, and carry your luggage. See? You _can't_ go anywhere without me."

Haley rushed back into the room, the glow from free flight still on her cheeks, and she brought with her a brown paper bag with several large construction paper hearts pasted on it; the bag itself was filled-to-bursting with cards from classmates. Holding it up under her parents' noses for inspection, she cried out, "Look at all the Valentine's I got! Look!" just as Jason sauntered sullenly back into the room for the family meal.

* * *

_**Phoenix, Arizona, **_**February 14, 2019. **She tossed her slinky, cotton candy-pink robe on over her negligee as Dale knocked on the door. _He might be expecting a windfall that'll never come, but he sure as hell won't be expecting this. _She threw it open and leaned against the frame seductively.

"Why, Maybelle, I…I…" Dale spluttered, eyes shifting nervously up and down the hall after spotting her scantily clad form. He clutched his briefcase closer to his chest.

The middle-aged woman grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him inside. "A pretty little surprise for you, I know," she practically purred. She kissed the top of his balding pate, leaving a bright red outline of her lips, and began going to work unbuttoning his shirt collar.

He nudged her away from him, sweat dripping freely down his temples. "Don't you think we should, uh, t-talk a little business, first?" he asked, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his grimy face.

Maybelle sat on the edge of the bed, petulantly crossing her arms in front of her chest and began to pout. "Fine."

"Ok then." Dale moved over to the desk with a bit more confidence now that she wasn't trying to climb into his suit, opening the case up while shielding its contents from her view. "I'm sorry, but I could only get about 50,000 dollars together on such short notice—the rest is tied up in other funds."

The news served only to deepen the frown lines around her mouth and face. "But Dale, Sugar, you _told _me you could get 75,000 dollars…"

"I know, but the man at the bank said I'd lose a lot of money if I pulled out of them long-term CD's now." He held up a small wad of hundred dollar bills over the top of the case.

"I don't know…" Her eyes went wide at the sight of the cash and she instantly reverted back into con mode, momentarily ignoring her personal needs. "My other investors might not be happy with this turn of events; they were expecting everyone to put in equal shares. They might not accept your new offer." She searched his eyes eagerly for any hint of desperation and she was handsomely rewarded.

"Aww now, Maybelle, don't go doin' that to me! I got you the money right here, all cash, and I'm still interested…"

The scantily-clad woman rose up from the bed and swaggered over to him at the desk, closing the top of the briefcase with a smile without looking inside. She clutched the handle tightly. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to work extra hard to make sure that they accept your offer—and don't worry, you'll get three times as much back in six months."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Guaranteed?"

"Guaranteed."

"And there's no paperwork I need to sign? No legal mumbo-jumbo I have to write out for the money, or taxes I need to pay?"

She shook her head, her too tight curls swaying and revealing several gray patches. "Nope, this is all under the table. If we get the lawyers involved then by the time they're through you'd find out you were better off just keeping the money in the bank in the first place."

"Alright then, if you're sure." His eyes trailed after her as she sauntered over to the closet, setting the briefcase down on the floor.

Closing the door swiftly behind her, Maybelle turned around and flashed him more of her leg. "Now what do you say we celebrate our partnership properly?" she asked coyly, just as he pulled his wrist down from his face.

His entire demeanor and tone of voice changed. "I'm sorry, Sugar, but the jig is up." Phoenix area police stormed the room as Dale strode toward her with a pair of handcuffs dangling from his finger. "Maybelle Ritter, you're under arrest for thirty-two counts of fraud."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I'm afraid I was so excited about posting Chapter 1 I forgot to write an Author's Note! Anyhow, welcome back and I hope you all enjoy the fourth installment in my series. It isn't actually _necessary _to have read the first three in this series but I would recommend it-because, you know, I _wrote _them so you might like them, but also because I make references to past events in "A Most Precious Gift" that you won't understand without having read the first three. They're really only passing references though so don't worry too much if you don't have the inclination or the time. Either way I hope you enjoy "A Most Precious Gift" and if you have any other questions about the posting schedule or anything I suggest you check out the lenghtier note on my profile page. Also, and I know this is an overdone phrase here on , but remember that reviews are love!

Lastly I might-just _might_-be willing to share an early snippet of Chapter 3 with the first three reviewers if you decide to share your criticism/thoughts...

Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_**Phoenix, Arizona, **_**February 14, 2019. **"I got her—move in," Detective Dave Ashburton announced to his colleagues outside the motel through the wire he'd worn under his clothing. He brought his wrist away from his mouth as she whipped around to face him.

"Now what do you say we celebrate our partnership properly?" Maybelle asked, flashing him more leg.

He began to sweat even more profusely than before. Reaching behind and underneath his jacket the detective pulled out the pair of handcuffs he'd looped around his belt while ignoring his discomfort. Members of Phoenix's finest came busting through the door as he crossed the room to reach her and their presence helped steady his nerves. "I'm sorry, Sugar, but the jig is up." Dave moved to her side, the handcuffs dangling from his finger. "Maybelle Ritter, you're under arrest for thirty-two counts of fraud."

Her face fell open in shock. "But…what…who? Fraud? Dale, I…"

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have one present during questioning; if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed to you at no cost. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?"

Her over-plucked brows furrowed in confusion as she scowled at him, her hands secured behind her back. "I understand, but what I…"

"Take her away, boys." Dave passed the con artist off to two of his colleagues and watched as she was escorted from the room, still spluttering in confusion, then he moved to retrieve the briefcase from the closet.

"Nice job, Detective!" the heavy set man with the deep voice cried out, clapping his hands as he strolled into the room; it was Harry Ayer, his partner at the precinct. "Though I doubt Vanessa will say the same thing when she sees the size of the pucker that woman left on you."

"What?" the middle-aged man shrieked in horror, peering into the nearest mirror. "Oh geez…" He grabbed a couple of tissues out of the box on the dresser and began wiping down his face, then pulled his wedding ring out of his pocket and slipped it back on his finger. The two men moved over to the bed, Dave setting the case out before them on the striped comforter. His pal leaned over and ignored the techs and officers moving about the room so he could better inspect the contents for himself; inside was a wad of hundred dollar bills tucked between stacks of neatly cut and bound newspaper.

"Good thing she didn't look inside."

"Yeah, you're telling me," Dave replied with a sincere grin at his good fortune. "Though I wasn't about to pony up 50,000 dollars of the department's money in case she gave us the slip."

Harry clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Buddy, I don't blame you." Dave closed up the case again and took it in his grip. "So what now?"

"Now we head back to the House and see if she'll talk to us before crying for a lawyer—if not we'll book her and see where things go from there."

* * *

_**Metropolis**_**, February 14, 2019. **Dinner went on amiably enough with Jason sullenly picking at his Peking raviolis while his sister babbled on about her day without realizing anything was amiss. Lois and Clark shot each other several pointed looks throughout dinner but chose to address the issue with their son later on in private. The young man got up from his seat the moment he was through, sending his plate clattering in the sink, than set off for his room to finish his homework.

Haley was getting ready for bed when Clark walked back through the apartment, passing by Jason's room. The young man had taken up learning Russian for his foreign language requirement—one of only a handful of students at Jack Larson High to do so—and he was getting on rather well. Clark paused in the doorway to listen to his son practice his annunciation; a story about a boy named Jasha and his dog was streaming through Jason's iPod making him momentarily oblivious of his father's presence.

"Mind if I come in?"

The teenager shrugged his shoulders, his back still turned to the door as he continued on with his studies.

"You sound good," Clark said as he settled down on the foot of the bed. Jason pulled one of the buds out of his ear to better hear his father. "So…have you turned in all your college applications?"

"Yep. Mailed the last one about two weeks ago."

"And have you heard back from any of them yet?"

Jason shook his head. "No; Met U's admissions department doesn't send their stuff out for awhile—I probably won't hear from them until late-March/early-April."

His father put a large hand on the bed knob. "Look, Jason, I know you want to go to Met U but I wouldn't put all my eggs in one basket because you just never know what'll happen. Besides, what about UVA, NYU or BC? Those are all fine schools…"

"I know but I _want_ to go to Met U," the boy replied resolutely.

"Alright." He let the subject drop for the moment and picked up again on the Russian streaming out of the small iPod. "You know it sounds so much like Kryptonese I almost forget that it's only a human variation." Clark stared wistfully at the wall behind Jason's head a moment, lost in his own memories of time spent in the Fortress studying with his father. "I wish you could have had proper lessons from Jor-el but this will still help with your studies here at home."

"Yes, I know," Jason replied flippantly. His glare was undercut by the fact that he'd tried to answer in Kryptonese but mixed in his Russian.

"No, you're stressing the wrong syllables, you need to…"

"Look, stop telling me what to do, ok?" he cried out in English, leaping up from his seat and towering over his father. His face was flushed and his eyes flashed dangerously red. "You and Mom are always telling me what I can and can't do and I'm so sick of it! When are you going to figure out I'm almost 18 and can do what I want!"

His voice went higher as he mimicked his folks. "'Jason, you can fly here but you can't fly there', 'No, Jason, you need to say it _this_ way', 'Make sure you don't super-speed outside the house, Jason'—when are you going to start treating me like an adult and let me make my own decisions about things, _especially_ when it comes to my powers?"

Clark bit his lips together and placed his hands on his legs, thoroughly taken aback by his son's outburst. He hadn't seen this argument coming at all—Jason was normally mature beyond his years, but tonight he was acting very much his age. With a heavy sigh Clark pushed himself up off the bed and stared into his son's eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said slowly, his voice unintentionally dropping an octave as he spoke. "But not only are you _our_ son and still living under _our _roof, you're also still a minor and whatever your mother and I say goes." He turned to leave the room, feeling his son's eyes hard upon the back of his head, before concluding, "And as far as you making your own decisions goes we would be willing to treat you more like an adult if you showed us that you were capable of _behaving_ like one." The boy's eyes went wide underneath his brow and the corners of his mouth pulled further downward. "I'll leave you to your studying now."

* * *

"**UGH**! You're _**IMPOSSIBLE**_, you know that? The two of you are _**IMPOSSIBLE**_!" The door closed behind his father without any further acknowledgment causing Jason to shout even louder. A boiling heat began to grow within him that even he couldn't contain, accidentally sparking a tiny fire on the back of the pine door. Jason sped over and stretched a hand out to pat it down until nothing but the scorched wood remained; nothing, however, could help stamp out his anger.

* * *

Clark lay awake in bed that evening, arms by his sides outside the covers, staring straight up and through the ceiling at the stars twinkling outside. Jason and Haley were both in their rooms, presumably sleeping, and Lois was finishing up in the bathroom. A flick of the switch and he could hear her padding down the hall back to their room.

"Hello Handsome," she whispered as she slipped under the covers and curled up into his side, pulling an arm around her. "We better be fast, my husband could be home at any moment."

"Ha ha." He glanced down and met her twinkling eyes at the use of their little in-joke. She wore an impertinent expression that was singular only to her and it brought a small smile to his lips.

"No, honestly," she replied, "He's a big, brawny man who flies…why, he could fly in through that window over there right now and catch us!"

"Very funny."

She propped herself up on her elbow as he refused to play her game. "You are one distracted guy tonight! Is this about Jason?"

"I just can't figure out why he got all riled up like that, and at me! The two of us have always been able to talk things out before but the way he was yelling…it was like talking to a stranger who only looked like our son!"

Lois sighed. "He's a teenager, Clark; it's his prerogative to think he knows what's best for him all the time. You said so yourself: our job is to watch over him and teach him what really is best so that when he's on his own making decisions he'll do the right thing."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and mulled over her words. "I suppose…but I don't remember ever talking to my father like that when I was his age."

"Well aren't we looking back on our past with rose-colored glasses," she scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means most everyone thinks they were model children in their youth, save for yours truly, but that's just not the case. There were plenty of times that I purposely stepped out of line just to stick it to the General because I wanted to push his buttons and believe me, I pushed them all…repeatedly. Now are you seriously trying to tell me that you never did the same thing with your father?"

"Yes," he answered quickly. Lois shot him a look. "No. Maybe? But Honey, you have to remember, things were different for me."

"Oh really? How so?"

He rolled back over on his back. "I was coming into my powers all the time, and my parents and I had no idea what was next. It was frustrating to have to stop living our lives for days or weeks at a time while I struggled to learn how to control all these abilities; neither of us knew when it would end or what the next challenge would be and it was hard growing up like that. There may have been the occasional bit of back-talking and griping but that's because we were all so tense waiting to see what was next."

"And our son has the same abilities as you, so I'm failing to see the difference here." She brought her hand up and pushed the hair off his forehead, watching his one stubborn curl fall into place and stand in stark contrast to his smooth, pale skin.

"The difference is that back then I was all alone in mastering my powers but with Jason I know what's coming and I can help him."

"We can help him, you mean," Lois corrected, ceasing her play with his hair.

"Right."

She sighed and rolled back over onto her side of the bed, folding her hands over her stomach and staring up at the ceiling with him. "I think part of what's bothering you is that he clearly doesn't want our help wherever his powers are concerned."

Clark abruptly pulled himself into a sitting position. "What? That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" she continued, not bothering to face him. "Sounds to me like when you were his age you would've loved having someone there to guide you who really _knew _what you were going through—but Jason isn't like you, Clark. Just look at how he came into his other powers: the cooling breath, the hearing, even the flying he tried to figure out on his own before coming to you for advice on how to get around better and by that time he'd already coped well enough to use it in short durations without our help. Our son not only tends to bottle things up inside but he's also headstrong and stubborn and he's always going to take his own path—even if it's the harder one—because that's just how he is."

He simply shook his head at her. "I don't agree, I think that he…" His voice trailed off and his thought went unfinished as a faraway sound caught his ear. "I've got to go, there's…"

"I know, and I'll be here when you get back." The words were barely out of her mouth when she felt him bolt out of bed and spin into the suit lying on the seat nearby, then duck out their bedroom window to do what he did best—help.

* * *

Jason lay in bed awake, his rage not permitting him to sleep. He was still riled up by his father's words that kept running through his head as if on a permanent loop. The teenager sneered as he mimicked his father in the dark.

"'_But not only are you our son and still living under our roof, you're also still a minor and whatever your mother and I say goes_—goes my ass! I'll be eighteen soon and then we'll see what you have to say about how I use my abilities! Oh, and let's not forget: '_And as far as you making your own decisions goes we would be willing to treat you more like an adult if you showed us that you were capable of __behaving__ like one_'. Mom may be as deluded as the rest of the world in thinking he's so 'super' but I know better."

He rolled over onto his stomach and punched at his pillow, careful not to use too much force and send feathers flying everywhere. It was in this moment of concentration that his hearing moved beyond the four walls of his room.

"_I don't agree, I think that he…_" but then his father's disembodied voice paused, leaving the thought unfinished. "_I've got to go, there's…"_

"_I know, and I'll be here when you get back._" Jason waited patiently until he heard the window rattle in his father's wake.

_Ladies and gentleman, the Super-Know-it-All has left the building!_ His anger began to ebb now that they were no longer sharing the same apartment and he attempted to doze off when the thought struck him. The only other person in the apartment with hearing like his was his sister and she was sound asleep in her room on the opposite side of the hall. Without any second-guessing and with incredible stealth and speed Jason leapt up out of bed and threw on a black t-shirt, dark jeans and boots before heading toward the living room. _Here goes nothing…_

Jason zipped out the window in a black blur and headed straight up into the protective cloud layer blanketing the City, only coming to a stop when he was hovering nearly a mile above the apartment. _Yes! Success! _With a deep, satisfying whiff of the crisp air around him he turned about in all directions, trying to determine where to go next. Having the whole sky as his own personal playground was more than refreshing—it made him tremble with energy the likes of which he hadn't felt since he was six years old—and he was eager to get going.

He sped off to the west as fast as his powers could carry him, chasing after the light as he went. A brilliant array of navy blues, purples, deep magentas and faded pinks greeted him as he crossed time zones until he reached the Pacific Ocean. Still vigilant about keeping his cover he peered out cautiously from the top of a cloud at the expanse of water that lay below him.

A nervous lump appeared in his throat and he bravely fought to swallow it down but one quick glance behind him served to bolster his resolve.

"_That's right, Son_," he heard his father's voice echoing in his ears. "_You know you shouldn't be out here alone. You should go back now_."

"No," he muttered, feeling only slightly out of breath. "No, I can do this…I'm going!" He darted out toward the open water without further hesitation.

Two and a half minutes out over the Pacific, Jason paused for only the second time in his mid-night, solo flight. With arms out at his sides he lifted them up toward the heavens, drinking in the strengthening rays of the bright yellow sun. The sky above was a perfect shade of light blue, with not a cloud around to mar the view, and the ocean below—well it took his breath away.

The water was a blue so deep he didn't even know if it was registered on the color spectrum, and the undulating waves ceaselessly broke the surface without detracting from the overall perfection. There was so much to see and nothing to see, the vastness of the space around him was unoccupied by any other human life form, and Jason found the freedom—not only of movement but from prying eyes of any kind—to be invigorating. He soaked it in a minute more before continuing on his journey.

In the course of his flight he soared over the Great Wall of China, circled around the mighty top of Mount Everest (twice), and dipped south to see the grand Pyramids of Egypt before changing course yet again to marvel at the Eiffel Tower. He lingered over Paris a moment, nearly tuckered out, and only then realized that he had yet another ocean to cross to get home. _Crap, I should've planned this better._

Ten minutes later Jason lowered himself down out of the sky and slunk into the window in the living room, nearly collapsing to his knees when his feet hit the floor. He caught himself before he made any sound and stood stock still listening to the rest of the apartment. A quick scan showed that Haley was still sleeping while his mother dozed fitfully in her own bed, shifting toward the side where his father was noticeably absent. A giant grin crossed his face as he moved around the apartment realizing he wasn't going to get caught.

Jason grabbed a banana out of the fruit basket as he meandered back down the hall glancing at his watch as he approached his room. _Forty-one and a half minutes to cross the globe—not bad, not bad._ He smirked in self-satisfaction before biting into the fruit. _And I got away with it too, even better! _He swallowed and took another bite. _But I know I can do better, I just need to practice._ Nearly swallowing the rest of the banana in one gulp he tossed the peel in the garbage pail and closed the door to his bedroom behind him, kicking off his shoes before flopping face first onto the mattress. His flight not only exhausted him but also emboldened him and for the rest of the night he dreamt of the crisp, deep blue of the Pacific Ocean.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019.** "Jason, get your butt out of bed, **NOW**!" Lois hollered down the hall. She scooted around her daughter and pulled the cream cheese out of the refrigerator. "And don't act like you can't hear me young man, I know you can!"

Clark poured the milk from the jug on the table into Haley's cereal bowl then added some to his coffee. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around, his wife's piercing tone irritating his especially sensitive ear drums. "Honey, I think even the neighbors heard you that time."

She smirked at him as she spread the cream cheese on her bagel. "Well then he's sure to have heard me too."

"I did," the young man in question remarked as he entered the room, yawning and ruffling his cow-licked hair with one hand. He dragged his feet all the way to the table before plopping down in a chair and pouring himself some cereal. Haley munched on her wheatie-o's, eyes on him and his bedraggled appearance, silently studying his every move.

"Were you up late last night?" his mother asked as a second yawn escaped his lips.

"No, I'm just tired."

"Alright…" She shuffled over to the refrigerator again, this time pulling out Haley's lunch box, decidedly dropping the subject from any further discussion.

Clark pretended to read the paper as he sipped from his mug before they all went their separate ways, giving his son the cold-shoulder. He could feel his little girl boring holes in him with her eyes as she hovered over the cereal bowl, turning her gaze from her father to her brother, the clinking of her spoon the only sound to interrupt the silence.

"Uh, Dad?" Jason's voice called out meekly from across the table.

The older man lowered a corner of the paper and looked him in the eye. "Yes?"

"I uh…" The teenager set his spoon down in the bowl and let out a soft sigh, squaring his shoulders for what was to come next. "I'm, uh, sorry for what I said…you know, last night? You were right, and I'll, um…I'll try harder."

"Well." Clark paused, too pleased by this latest development to look beyond it's face value. "Alright then. Apology accepted."

* * *

From her spot by the counter Lois carefully watched the exchange between father and son, but instead of accepting the apology as wholeheartedly as Clark had she chose to take Jason's words with a grain of salt. There was something about the swiftness of it all after the argument the night before that nagged at her ever-present cynical side and stayed with her for days afterward.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I'll make this quick so you can get back to the story-first off, thanks to everyone who left a review, I really appreciated it. I tried to send the sneak preview to a couple of people but if you don't have the PM feature enabled then I couldn't send it. Sorry. Make sure you have Private Messaging enabled in the future so you can get the sneak peeks...

...which leads me to my second point. I'm going to offer sneak previews to everyone who leaves a meaningful review just to show how much I appreciate you.

And now I'll leave you to the story.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_**Phoenix, Arizona, **_**February 14, 2019. **"Good evening, Maybelle," Detective Ashburton announced as he walked into the interrogation room, slamming a thick brown file folder onto the table. The woman across from him had dark circles under her eyes where her make-up ran and now wore a drab, navy blue, state-issued jumpsuit on account of the decided lack of clothing she had on when they brought her in. She turned her nose up at the sight of him

"I can't believe this," she grumbled looking dejectedly up into his face, all earlier traces of her sugary-sweet attitude from earlier gone. "Dale, you stupid, lying, son of a…"

"It's David, actually," he cut in, taking his seat. "David Ashburton; but you can call me _Detective_."

"Crap. I should've known that you were too easy a mark…"

"Is that a confession?"

Maybelle instantly shut up and brought a hand up to re-arrange her hair. "Was that a what? No, no, that was nothing."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at the show she was putting on then flipped the file folder open. "I'm going to hand it to you straight, Maybelle. We've got you and we've got you good. We've got you on every single mark you hit up and down Route 17, from the sweet little old ladies in New River all the way to the Goldsmith boy you took for twenty grand up in Flagstaff, and I'm willing to bet that you've run dozens more cons outside the great state of Arizona that we don't even know about. What I'm trying to tell you is that you can help yourself out a lot by talking to us now, or you can make matters worse by being disagreeable. It's all up to you."

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and looked over at him; if he didn't know the full extent of the trouble she was in the Detective would've pegged her as looking almost bored by her predicament. Maybelle brought her palm down flat on the broad black surface of the table and flashed him a smug smile. "I want a lawyer," she said, enunciating each syllable for dramatic effect.

He had enough of her theatrics. Pushing back from his seat Dave crossed his arms in front of his chest and ever so slightly narrowed his eyes. "Fair enough," he conceded, watching her relax at the defeat in his voice. "I'll go see what fresh prospects the DA's office has from the SDCC." He got up to quit the room, taking his folder with him.

Listening to her swallow down the lump in her throat was comical. "The SDCC?" she asked meekly.

"Sandy Dessert Community College down the road—yeah, they've got a great law program there. The District Attorney's office likes to scoop up the top candidates from the graduating class as soon as they pass the bar; they figure the kids'll get all the on-the-job training they'll need anyway…why, with cases like yours, I believe!" She scowled at him as he triumphantly exited the room.

Tucking into observation he re-joined Harry who was studying Maybelle from behind the glass. She stewed in her seat, muttering and fuming.

"Hey."

"Hey." The two watched as she began nervously biting off a finger nail. "So…you think she knows that there's no such school as Sandy Dessert Community College?"

Dave smacked his lips together and grinned. "Nope, doesn't have a clue." His portly friend chuckled. "As soon as her attorney's through having a chat with her I want you to escort her to central booking; I want everything by the book on this one, no room for error. She's ruined enough lives and I don't want her to get off on a technicality."

"Consider it done."

* * *

**Four hours later.** "Um, Dave?"

The detective looked up from the paperwork on his desk as his friend filled up the doorway. "Yeah?"

"We have a problem."

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. "What happened?"

"We ran Maybelle's prints through the national database and we got a hit—with a different name."

That peaked his interest and his eyebrows darted up into his forehead. "Oh? What name?"

Harry stepped inside the room, holding the thin file in his hand while tugging nervously at his brown tie. "You see, uh, it isn't _just_ the name that's the problem, it's the crime she was involved with that's at the crux of it all."

"Ok, so tell me her name and what she's accused of and we'll figure out where to go from there," Dave remarked beginning to lose his patience.

The other man let loose a sigh before continuing. "The prints came back with the name Katherine Kowalski, and she's accused of being involved…"

"In the New Krypton plot," he finished, greatly subdued by the revelation. Harry stared at him in amazement while Dave sat in thought, deeply disturbed. "I transferred out here from the east coast in early 2007 when my wife got the job at the art gallery," he said by way of explanation. "I was on the force back in Metropolis when it all went down."

His friend passed him the file then sunk into the barrel seat on the opposite side of the desk. "Yeah, well, it looks like they still want her back there in connection with that crazy island thing and that might trump the case we've built against her here. You know anybody back in Metropolis still involved with this?"

Dave propped his head up on his chin, carefully considering who among his few remaining contacts from Metropolis might be interested in this new development. "You know, I just might…"

* * *

_**Phoenix, Arizona, **_**February 14/15, 2019. **Harry re-entered the interrogation room hot on the heels of his friend, and the suspect and her lawyer sat on the opposite side of the table looking glumly back up at them.

"Anything you want to tell us, Katherine?" Dave asked, not waiting for his partner to seat himself.

She squawked back at him like a well-trained parrot. "On the advice of my attorney, I'm not going to say anyth—wait, what did you just call me?" The woman stopped irritatingly chomping on her gum as her jaw dropped open.

"Katherine. That is your name, isn't it?" He looked up into her face expectantly, then began reciting her vital statistics off before she could respond. "Born Katherine Ann Kowalski on February 3, 1971, the first child of Ray and Shannon Kowalski of the Happy Trails Trailer Park just outside of Cranston, Rhode Island. Looks like you've got four younger brothers too…must've gotten pretty cramped up there, I'd imagine. You dropped out of school at sixteen, worked your way up the coast, got picked up for solicitation in Boston around your seventeenth birthday…spent a couple months in juvey, got out, dropped off the map again…"

"Ok, stop!" She sat there visibly cringing as he laid out her past. "I'm Kitty, that's me, you got me!"

"We know we do," Harry chimed in, arms folded in front of his chest. "Problem is we're not the only ones who want you."

The lawyer beside her squirmed uncomfortably as this new information came to light. He tugged hard at his suit collar trying to puzzle it out. "Excuse me, Detective? I'm not quite sure I follow where all this is going?"

Dave refused to break eye contact with Kitty. "Would you like to tell Mr. Giles here what my partner's referring to or should I?"

The woman furrowed her brows in confusion until she was struck by the thunderbolt. "_Oh no_…" she muttered under her breath in surprise, her brown eyes flying open in unbridled fear. "Oh _SHIT_! NO! You can't possibly send me back to Metropolis, you can't, I can't go back there! The things Lex made me do, and to _him_, I can't go back there, I won't!"

"Then, Ms. Kowalski," he slid a pad of paper and a pen over toward her, "I suggest you start writing."

* * *

_**Precinct 16 Headquarters, Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019. **The third floor of the Sixteenth Precinct's Headquarters had been transformed into an unofficial party zone as one of their own was preparing for retirement: Lieutenant Albert Henrickson was finally stepping down after thirty-five years of service. The official party—the one where he'd get his gold watch—was scheduled for mid-March, just _after_ his long-awaited fishing vacation down in Mexico.

A party horn sounded behind his head and Al grinned at the festivities around him. He'd been riding the desk for the last few years on account of his leg—getting shot yet again and limping around was more a liability then an asset out in the field—but today even his old 'war wound' couldn't dampen his youthful enthusiasm; the rest of the partygoers had even convinced him to wear a paper hat in honor of the occasion and the sight of the silly-looking Lieutenant only added to the general merriment.

"Hey Al," one of the desk sergeants called out, clapping a hand down on his shoulder, extending a cup of punch toward the retiree. "This place isn't going to be the same without you."

"Yeah," a younger man in full uniform remarked from a nearby corner. "What're we supposed to do here in the one-six without our resident fossil?"

"Har har, very funny, Conley," Al retorted, taking a sip of his drink. "But just you wait; easy street is calling my name while something tells me that you're going to be working the meter readin' detail until the day _you _retire." The men and women gathered around had a good laugh at Conley's expense while continuing to wish the Lieutenant well.

All the voices in the room and the music pulsing from a stereo atop a filing cabinet commingled in the air, making it difficult to hear the lone telephone ringing on a desk near the front of the room. Heather Tucker was walking back from the lady's room when it chanced to ring again and she picked up the receiver, sticking a finger in her ear so she could hear whoever was speaking on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Hello?" A long pause followed as she strained to make out what the man on the line wanted. "You're calling long distance? And you want who? Oh, Henrickson, yeah, he's definitely still around, give me one second." She clapped a hand over the receiver and lifted it up into the air, waving it like a flag and sending her blond curls flying. "Lieutenant! Hey, Lieutenant!" When that didn't get his attention she resorted to screaming. "HEY AL!" Heather's shouting and waving finally got his notice and she pointed at the phone. He nodded back and jerked his head toward his office so she could transfer it there.

"Hello, this is Al."

"Captain Henrickson? Is this Captain Albert Henrickson?"

Al scratched the top of his head and gave an odd smile. "This is Al Henrickson, but I haven't been a captain in years—it's Lieutenant now, soon to be ordinary citizen again. Who's this?"

The man on the other end of the line coughed. "Well Sir, you might not remember me, but my name is David Ashburton. I transferred out about…"

"Oh sure! I remember you. What was that, eleven or twelve years ago that you left Metropolis, Ashburton? Geez, talk about timing …so what's going on in your neck of the woods? You're out in New Mexico or somewhere, right? I take it you're not calling to congratulate me on my upcoming retirement."

"No Sir, I'm not, though I do wish you the best; it's just, you see, I'm out in Phoenix now…"

"Yes."

"And I have a person in lock-up here on multiple counts of fraud…"

"Uh huh," Al replied again, failing to see where this long lost cadet was going with the conversation.

"But it turns out she's wanted in Metropolis in connection with a crime and I think you're still involved with the case."

The Lieutenant waited anxiously on the other end of the line for Ashburton to elaborate but no answer was forthcoming. "Well for Pete's sake, who is it and what'd she do that's got you calling me?"

"Her name is Katherine Kowalski, and she's wanted as an accomplice in the New Krypton plot."

* * *

Lois and Clark walked through the doors of the Precinct Headquarter's third floor together during their lunch hour, having been invited by the man of honor to his retirement shindig and finding the party still in full swing. A careful look around the room revealed a few familiar faces, but Al's was conspicuously absent.

"Can I help you folks?" young Conley asked as he made his way over to the couple with a proud swagger to his step.

"Yes, w-we're friends of Al's, here to wish him a Happy Retirement. Do you know where we can find him?" Clark asked the uniformed officer. He held a long, thin, well-wrapped gift at his side.

"Sure thing." Conley lifted his arm up and pointed toward the office in the back corner. "The Lieutenant's back there—been there quite awhile too. Not sure what that's about but I'm sure he'll be out in a jiff."

"Thanks."

Lois looked up at her husband as the cadet walked away. "Poor Al, he works so hard."

"Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black," he replied with a smirk. They moved toward the center of the room where he turned more serious, adding, "Though I agree, he probably should have retired years ago. I think he stayed on so long only because he felt he had something more to prove."

"Now don't go blaming yourself for that again," she muttered under her breath. "It wasn't your fault and you had no way of knowing it was going to happen let alone be there to stop it; and Al knows that too."

"I know," he remarked with a sad sigh, thrusting his free hand in the pocket of his brown trousers. "It doesn't mean I don't wish…" but he stopped in mid-sentence as he heard a door close and saw the Lieutenant hobbling toward them.

"Speak of the Devil!" Lois cried out, throwing her arms open wide and walking over to embrace him. "I thought I'd be long retired before you ever considered giving up your post!" She squeezed him tight then held him out at arm's length, studying the forced smile on his lips. "Now all I need you to do is convince Perry to take some time off from the _Planet_—maybe a nice long vacation south of the border will make him consider retiring too."

"You just can't wait to get your hands on that empire, can you, Lane?" he chided her. "Hell, he's a part of the institution! The _Planet_ without Perry would be like…like a pb and j without the jelly!"

"Oh great," she grumbled, "The Old Man'll never leave…"

"Congratulations, Al," Clark interjected, thrusting the present underneath the man's nose as Lois was called over to join some other friends of theirs. "Something we figured you could use in Mexico."

Al peeled back the top of the paper to reveal a fine fishing rod. "This is great, guys, thanks…really top of the line and everything…I'm just not so sure I'll have a chance to use it anytime soon."

The reporter furrowed his brow behind his thick frames, his voice dropping as he spoke. "What do you mean?" The Lieutenant beckoned him to his half-packed office without saying another word.

* * *

_**Pinehurst Assisted Living Facility, Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019. **Gail Bernstein glanced up from her hand of cards in time to catch sight of a tall young man standing on the opposite side of the room with a small heart-shaped container of chocolates in one arm and a backpack slung over the shoulder of the other. "Oh Martha," she called out as she eyed her friend over the rims of her glasses, "Your boyfriend's here." Patricia and Robert Dossin, newcomers to the facility, swiveled their hands around at the same time as their Bridge partner to see who Gail was talking about.

Martha beamed with pride at the sight of her grandson as he strode over to her, his gift in his outstretched arms just like when he was a little boy of six, and she rose from her chair to greet him. "Happy Late Valentine's Day, Grandma," he announced as he leaned over to give her a hug and deposit the chocolates on the table. "Sorry I couldn't get here yesterday."

"Oh hush now, don't you worry about that; having you visit is Valentine's enough. Now come here, I want you to meet my new friends. Bob, Patty, this is my grandson, Jason."

While the how-do-you-do's were exchanged Gail plucked a chocolate from the box and thought back to the first day she met Martha Kent and how lucky the woman was to have bucked the Pinehurst trend. It'd been seven months since Martha moved in—"To be closer to my family," she explained after the two were better acquainted—and Gail had watched in amusement as two strapping men struggled to move the overstuffed armchair into the modest apartment down the hall where Mr. Hudson used to live. A young woman and a little girl followed not far behind, the woman struggling with two large boxes of her own while the little girl held fast to Martha's hand and babbled on the whole length of the hallway.

It was a scenario Gail had seen play out many times before in her three years at Pinehurst; the family would dump an elderly relative off with promises to visit, then go to ground until the Fall when they'd come back and parade said aging relative around in the name of the holiday spirit. She took the opportunity at dinner that first evening to introduce herself to her new neighbor and apprise her of the so-dubbed "Pinehurst Curse".

"That's the last you'll see of them," the tiny, feisty, city woman announced as she plunked her tray down opposite Martha's at the table. "Your grandkids too, until Thanksgiving or Christmas at least—then the family comes out of the woodwork and makes you wonder where they've been hiding the other eleven months out of the year."

She never forgot the look Martha gave her as she sat calmly sipping her soup. "Mmmhmm," was the only response she got, but Gail soon learned that "Mmmhmmm" meant so much to the Midwestern farm woman.

The family came back the following week to take Martha out to dinner and invited her new friend along too. The grandkids soon began popping by after school every couple of days whether their folks were with them or not. The little girl would paint Martha's fingernails, the daughter-in-law would stop by to chat, the son and grandson would fix whatever might happen to be broken or need mending around the place and seek advice. Even the staff members were surprised by the family togetherness that the Kent clan exhibited and wondered none too quietly why the elderly woman was even in their care at all.

It took Martha Kent to single-handedly break the Pinehurst Curse and she did it without even breaking a sweat.

So when Gail saw Jason the day after Valentine's she wasn't all that surprised; Bob and Patty on the other hand, having just learned of the curse, were astonished to discover that it didn't hold true to their new Bridge partner.

"Nice to meet you," Jason said to his grandmother's new friends, shaking hands all around. "And how are you doing today, Mrs. Bernstein?"

The elderly widow waved him off with a smile, pretending to be more interested in her cards then the goings on around her. "Any day that I'm six feet _above_ ground is a good day," she retorted. She glanced up and flashed him a grin as the young man rolled his eyes at her drollness.

"Is it alright if I borrow my grandmother for a few minutes?"

"By all means, take her away—it'll give Bob and Patty a chance to catch up to me." Gail gave him a sly wink as he escorted Martha down the hall to her apartment and she had the pleasure of watching her two new friends follow after them with their eyes.

"Well I'll be," Bob remarked as the pair turned the corner. Turning to his wife, he added, "Now _that'_s how children should talk to their elders."

* * *

"Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Martha asked once they were in the privacy of her room. She moved over to the hot plate to set some water boiling for tea before settling herself in the overstuffed chair while Jason took a seat on the foot of her bed.

"What, a grandson can't just pop by?"

She shot him a knowing look. "_Jason_…"

"Alright, I'll admit, there is something on my mind."

"Ok then, now we're getting somewhere. What's troubling you?" She folded her hands in her lap and waited.

"How old was Dad when you let him fly off on his own?" he asked quickly. She saw how closely he watched her for any visible reaction but she kept her features carefully schooled and neutral, just like she'd taught her son to do all those years ago.

"Well he started flying when he was about 16 or so but you already know all that."

"Yeah, but when did you and Grandpa let him fly around on his own? When did you guys decide he was ready to cross state lines? Cross the continent? Cross an ocean?"

The questions just kept coming and Martha held up a hand to stop him. "Whoa there! Where's all this coming from?"

He drew his arms around his chest and a small scowl crossed his face. "Mom and Dad won't let me fly on my own; they're afraid I'll crash and hurt myself or drown or something," he replied quietly. Then he began waving his arms around and in a louder voice added, "But they won't even give me a chance! I'm just as strong and fast as Dad is, so why do he and Mom think I'll get too tired just picking up dinner from China? I'm not a baby anymore and it's just so ridiculous the way they're treating me! It's so _infuriating_ sometimes!" Jason flopped back onto the bed with a sigh, his legs dangling over the edge.

She couldn't help but reign in a laugh at how dramatic he was being—much like Lois was in her younger days—and waited a moment until he was ready to hear what she had to say. "Jason, you have to understand something. When it came to the things your father can do… well, Honey, your grandfather and I were completely unprepared with how to deal with each new gift as it came along and we just learned to roll with the punches; but when he defied gravity altogether…let's just say there wasn't a whole lot we could do to stop him."

That admission just made Jason all the more indignant. "You mean _he_ didn't have the same restrictions on flying that he's placing on me?" he cried out sitting bolt upright again.

"No, that's not what I said. I said your grandfather and I couldn't stop him but that doesn't mean he didn't exercise good judgment; there were a good eight or nine months there where he didn't even leave the borders of the farm, and it was almost a full year before he decided to cross state lines. He knew his limits and it's not that he didn't test them he was just more cautious then most because he knew what might happen if he ever got caught." Martha shuddered involuntarily at what might have happened to her boy back in those days, all the precautions they had to take, the secrets they kept…_But just look at what it all led to_, she thought as she looked at the young man before her with a smile. Jason chewed on the inside of his lip in thought before nodding in agreement. "Just trust that they're doing the right thing for now—there'll be plenty of time for you to go gallivanting across the globe by yourself soon enough."

The boy attempted to hide the rolling of his eyes before replying. "Ok."

"Good. Now tell me about school, I want to hear how your classes are going…"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for all the great reviews guys! Keep 'em coming!

I'm posting a day early because I'm trying to go away for the Independence Day weekend and I may or may not be able to access my e-mail while I'm gone; so, while I fully intend to honor my promise to send every reviewer a 'sneak peek' I may not be able to do so for a few days.

So Happy Independence Day America, and I hope everyone has a fun and safe weekend!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_**Precinct 16 Headquarters, Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019. **The two men left the hoopla of the party behind and settled down for a serious discussion in Al's office. "I just got a call from an old colleague out in Arizona," the Lieutenant said. He seated himself behind his half-packed desk and gestured for Clark to take the remaining free chair in the room.

"Ok…" The reporter eyed his friend curiously, trying to determine how this phone call factored in with Al's retirement.

"Seems they nabbed someone out there with ties to an old case of mine—one I think _you_ might be particularly interested in."

"Ok…"

"Phoenix PD has Kitty Kowalski in custody on 32 counts of fraud, and those are just the cons out there that they know of." He watched Clark slide the glasses off his nose while a disappointed look crossed his face. "I mean, who knows what else she's been up to these last thirteen years? Heck, we all thought she was dead!"

"No," the young man replied with finality, his voice eerily low. "If Luthor survived then she had to as well—we just had no way of tracing her or knowing where she'd gone off to. For her sake I'd hoped she'd gone straight."

"Right, well, I guess now we know that's not exactly what happened there." Al paused and ran a rough hand through what remained of his hair before turning to gauge his friend's reaction. "She's fighting extradition, too."

"Why?"

"You're not going to believe this but the woman's afraid of you. My guy in Arizona says that the minute her true identity came to light she started whoopin' and hollerin' about how she didn't want to come back here, how Lex made her do terrible things to you and how she couldn't face you."

Clark scowled at the news but remained silent in his seat for several minutes, leaving Al desperately wondering what was going on in his head. "How many other people know about this?" he finally asked.

The Lieutenant shook his head. "Not many. The detective I know out there, by the name of Ashburton, said that only two other people in his precinct know who she really is but that they're keeping that information to themselves for the time being. David called me first because he knew I'd keep the affair quiet while directing him to whoever was still in charge of the case; luckily for us both that person still happens to be me—until I retire, that is."

"Until you retire," the reporter echoed somberly.

"Dave also has a reason to keep this hushed up; he wants her to stand trial in Phoenix and doesn't want to hand her over to the Metropolis court system."

Clark stared ahead of him at a spot on the desk and absently nodded his head. "Of course; he wants to seek justice for those wronged by her out there."

The older man looked longingly at the fishing reel propped up against his desk then back at his friend, the decision all but made for him. "The fish'll still be biting a few weeks from now—there's no need to rush out the door and leave this mess to whoever they send up the ranks."

"Al?" the reporter asked, his voice unintentionally squeaking as he spoke.

"You're going to need help on this one, Clark, and don't think I don't know that. You want to talk to her, right? Maybe confront her about her part in the whole thing?"

"Talk to her, yes; confront her, no. I made my peace insofar as Katherine was concerned years ago." He spoke the words but Al doubted the veracity behind them. "But I do have questions for her you're absolutely right about that."

Al flashed him a knowing grin. "Well alright then, good, now here's what we'll do. I'll put my retirement on hold indefinitely until we sort this whole thing out and you and Lois hightail it out to Arizona; I don't know how long Ashburton can keep this thing under wraps before the press get a hold of it—present company excluded, of course—and that way you can have your talk with her."

"Al, are you sure?" Clark asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice. "I know how much you were looking forward to getting out of here…"

"Can it, Kent, I've made up my mind and I'm staying. Conley was right, the precinct wouldn't know what to do without their resident fossil." The two shared an awkward chuckle.

"I wouldn't call you a fossil."

"Hey now, haven't you heard? I was walking around with the dinosaurs back in the day if you listen to the cadets talk; at sixty-six years of age I'm ancient to these kids!"

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019, 5:28 pm. **Lois followed her husband home to their apartment that evening, wondering at his odd behavior during the course of the afternoon. She knew better than to question him in the middle of the bullpen about what was bothering him, but that didn't stop her from confronting him the moment the front door was closed.

"What's been going on with you? Ever since we left Al's party you've had this look like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop…what did he say to you when you were alone in his office that's got you so tense?" She plopped her purse down on the armchair and followed him through to the dining room where Haley sat going over her homework, legs swinging back and forth beneath the chair. "Oh God, he's not dying, is he?" she blurted out, greatly distressed.

"No, he's not dying, Al's fine, it's…" His eyes roved over his daughter and then at his son as the lanky teenager passed through the room to get to the television. "Son, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uhhh…" the boys eyes darted back and forth in his head. "Yeah, I was going to go catch a movie with the guys, why?"

His father placed his glasses on the table and tugged his jacket off his shoulders. "I wanted to take your mother out to discuss something and was wondering if you could watch your sister; no matter." Turning back to his wife he added, "I'll give Jim and Chloe a call, see if they can't watch Haley for us for a little bit. We need to talk."

"Yes we do, but I don't see why…"

"Mom, can you help me?" Haley cried out, craning her head around to look at her mother with her math assignment clutched tightly in her hands.

"Just a minute, Hales." Lois turned her attention back to Clark only to find him on the phone talking to Chloe, trying to determine what time would be best to drop the little girl off at their apartment later in the evening.

* * *

Jason had just flopped down on the couch and turned the set on when his father called out to him.

"Son, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uhhh…" His mind raced as he sought to reason why his father was asking him his plans in the first place. _Maybe he wants to practice my powers with me? No, too obvious, um…maybe he wants to take Mom out? That's possible. Wait, if I say I have plans then I might be able to sneak away again. Bonus!_ "Yeah, I was going to go catch a movie with the guys, why?" he replied as nonchalantly as possible, hoping his dad wouldn't catch the lie.

He got away with it.

He was free. Again. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

_Alright!_

* * *

**7:20 pm. **Lois and Clark strolled down the hall of Jim and Chloe's apartment building each holding onto one of Haley's hands, the little girl beaming at the prospect of spending some quality time with her cousins. "I still don't understand why we couldn't discuss this at h—" Lois' speech was cut off by an ear-piercing shriek.

"MOMMY! THEY'RE HERE!" five year old Chris shouted as he poked his head out the door then darted back inside. Clark couldn't help but chuckle at his nephew's antics and watched through the walls as the blond-haired boy raced over to his mother by the breakfast table while Jim met them at the door.

"Christopher Ian Olsen, how many times have I told you not to leave the apartment! That's it young man, you're in time-out until I say otherwise!" Chloe's voice greeted them as they entered.

"But _MOMMY_!" the child cried out on the verge of tears, "I didn't leave the 'partment, I just looked to see if Haley was here!" The sobs now wracked his small body as his mother led him to the stool in the corner.

"I don't care," she replied, bending over as she seated him. "You still know what you did was wrong and so you're going to have to stay right here until your father and I think you've learned your lesson."

"Sorry about this, guys," Jim announced as they stepped into the apartment. Clark helped Haley take off her coat without bothering with his own, and the little girl made straight for her cousin in time out just as the twins entered the room. "But you know how it is."

"Don't worry, Chrissy," Haley said soothingly, holding his hand and stroking the back of it in a tender, motherly fashion. "We can still play when you get out."

His lower lip quivered as he spoke. "R-Really? Abby said you c-couldn't…"

"Yeah," the girl in question cried out, "We're going to play shoe store, and there are no boys allowed!" She made a face and stuck her tongue out at her baby brother.

"Hey!" Tommy, shouted. "What about me? You said I could be the shoe salesman!"

Chloe made her way over to the door in the midst of World War III, rolling her eyes at the insanity as she gave each of her friends a hug. All four adults turned in the direction of the ensuing squabble.

"You sure you guys still want to do this?" Clark asked as he eyed the gathering storm in the corner of the living room.

"Yeah," Jim replied good-naturedly, chucking him on the shoulder. "Besides, it's too late to take any of them back—the stork's up and flown the coop!"

"Jimmy!" Chloe scoffed teasingly, her husband drawing her into an embrace before another shout drew all their attention to the kids again.

Clark and Lois turned back to the door. "Alright then, if you're sure," Lois replied, glancing once more at her daughter holding court and trying to mediate an Olsen children fracas. "We won't be gone any longer than we need to be."

"Take your time, we'll be right here," Chloe replied with a wave of her hand, shutting the door behind them. Lois turned her attention back to her husband as they once again found themselves in the hallway.

"_Now_ will you tell me what's going on?"

"Not until we're a bit further north." He took her by the hand and led her away from the elevator and over to the stairwell.

"Up north? What? Why—?" But Clark scooped her up in his arms before she had a chance to finish her questions, too eager to tell her his most pressing news.

* * *

**7:06 pm. **Jason sat in a plush armchair in the corner coffee shop across the street from his building, watching his parent's and sister pile into a cab and waiting to see if they would double back and return. _Just a few more minutes to make sure they don't double back and I'm off_. He sipped on his hot chocolate as the cab pulled away from the curb, a devilish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. When fifteen minutes passed without any sign of his folks—by land or by air—Jason decided it was time to get a move on. He rose from his seat and deposited the empty cup in the trash before striding out the door and briskly crossing the street.

It felt odd to be in the apartment by himself at that hour; not that he hadn't been left home alone before—he'd been left to his own devices or asked to babysit his sister plenty of times—but this time was different. This time he wasn't _supposed_ to be home at all. The place was dark and quiet as he slipped his key in the front door and Jason was careful not to turn on any lights lest his parents return home unexpectedly and catch him in the act—he wanted to leave as few signs of his presence as possible.

He didn't dawdle but promptly locked the front door behind him and made his way to the living room window, opening it and sticking his head out to peer at the alleyway below. They'd been fortunate with this apartment—it had multiple windows overlooking the alley and facing an opposing brick wall, giving the Kents easy access to come and go and defy gravity as they pleased. Jason was especially grateful for this now as he stepped out onto the ledge and took off toward the sky.

Just like before he hovered over the apartment building inhaling the crisp clean air of the empty space around him. He waited only a moment before checking the digital watch on his wrist staring at it determinedly, a man with a plan. _Ok, no sightseeing, I'm on a mission. I have to circumnavigate the globe and be as fast as Dad which means—_he did the math in his head—_I have to get back here in under seven minutes. _The teenager licked his lips uneasily; it had taken him nearly six times as long on his last global trek and he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it back within the frame he'd given himself.

"Nothing ventured nothing gained," he muttered, using one of his mother's oft-repeated phrase. One last quick look below and he sped off into the west.

* * *

**7:26 pm.** "What are we doing here, Clark?" Lois asked, her breath fogging before her as he lowered them through the rooftop opening of the Fortress. She shuddered involuntarily at the dark remnants of the palace around her; it reminded her of a tomb.

He set her down on her feet and walked a short distance away, turning his back on her to look at the area of the dead console. "They found Katherine Kowalski," he said quietly.

"Kowalski? As in _Lex Luthor's _girlfriend!" she shouted, her face falling. All Clark could do was nod. "Well where the hell is she? Is she dead? No? Well she'll wish she was once I get my miserable hands on her..."

"Lois, it was a long time ago, I've made my peace with it," he cut in, finally turning to face her. An overwhelming sadness lingered about his eyes as he recalled the turn of events involving the woman that led to Luthor's creation of New Krypton.

It was all she could do to stop herself and just _glare_ at him. "_You've made __your__ peace with it_? That's a load of bull! She may not have been the brains behind the scheme but she's still an accomplice to Luthor's crime and I, for one, don't intend to let her get away with what she did to you _**OR**_ what she did to me and Jason!" She put her hands on her hips, elbows cocked out at her sides, looking more like she was admonishing one of their children than having a conversation with her husband. "Or have you forgotten how we both almost died on that godforsaken yacht!"

That last blow was low, even she knew that, and Lois watched with eyes full of regret as he shuddered over what might have happened had he been just a few seconds late.

"She's afraid of me."

His voice was barely audible but the stillness of the Arctic air let Lois hear every word clear as a bell. "What?"

"Katherine was caught out in Arizona for another crime and she's fighting extradition. She doesn't want to come back to Metropolis because she fears what I might do to her if she returns." Looking away, and speaking more to himself then to her, he added, "As if I would ever…"

Suddenly Lois felt his pain very acutely; he'd always striven to be a symbol of hope, especially in the aftermath of his brutal captivity where he'd had to struggle so hard to overcome his own pain and negative thoughts and be the man he was born to be. Kitty's very vocal fears proved that he was not as successful as he'd hoped. "What was she arrested for?" Lois asked, hoping to draw his attention away from the other woman's unjustified alarm.

Clark heaved a sigh. "She's been living as a con artist swindling people out of their savings."

"Oh."

He glanced down into her face now that her indignant rage had subsided and spoke to her with measured words. "I want to talk to her, Lois; I need to know how they got in here, what they learned about me and my past, and most importantly find out what happened to the rest of the crystals. Did Luthor use them all to create New Krypton? If so then they're lost to me but what if he took them with him after he escaped? Where are they now? Kitty may not know but I need to take this chance to ask her myself and see if I can get a little piece of my home back." He craned his neck around and looked longingly at the console once more—he may have disagreed with Jor-el more then once but the more he watched Jason and Haley grow up the more he wished he could have his biological father and mother's guidance when it came to teaching them about their abilities and their shared history.

"Hey," she called out, taking his chin gently in her hands and re-directing his gaze. "Home is wherever _we_ are: you, me and the kids, you got that?" Lois brought her hand down and let it rest over his jacket against his heart. "But that doesn't mean I don't understand what you lost that day and how it's haunted you, especially knowing how much Jason and Haley could have benefited too. We'll go talk to Kitty together, ok?" He nodded feebly and leaned in for a hug, the world's greatest hero becoming putty in her hands. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to," she whispered soothingly, arms wrapped around his neck. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hi all! Just wanted to say thanks again for all the reviews; they've really made my day! Also, I wanted to apologize because I keep changing the story summary around and I'm sure most of you have noticed and found it a little bit annoying. I can't seem to stop myself from editing it and just want to get it right...I promise I will try really hard not to change it again for the remainder of the story though.

Alright, I'm done rambling, so here's Chapter 5. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_**Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019, 7:35 pm. **Jason came to an abrupt halt over his apartment building, panting heavily as he hovered in mid-air and checked his watch. _Fourteen minutes. Hmmm...I guess that's not __too__ bad. _He glanced down and x-rayed through the layers until his eyes lit upon his apartment, still finding it to be empty. _I still say the blame goes to the opposing wind over the Atlantic and not me; I could've been here a lot faster if it weren't for that._ The teenager lowered himself down gracefully, in the style of his father, and slipped back in through the open window.

He sauntered into the kitchen for some ice cream and a spoon before settling down on the couch in the living room. _Might as well rest up for round 2_, he thought, cramming a mouthful of Rocky Road into his mouth. _Now, how can I improve? I need to shave seven minutes off my time AND build up endurance._

A second heaping spoonful quickly joined the first as he mulled over his unusual dilemma. Flying endurance wasn't exactly something he could build upon in the weight room during PE; besides, he was having a hard enough time as it was making it look like a struggle when he did his repetitions with the free weights. Jason pulled the spoon slowly out of his mouth when a potential solution to the wind problem dawned on him. _Dad's ridiculous multi-colored suit, aha! No wonder he still wears it, it's the perfect thing for flying…now, what can I do to cut down on my own air friction? Something a little less garish is in order…wait, Rick'll know…he does track, he'll know where to get a black spandex shirt pretty cheap. _He glanced down at his ungainly long legs and stuck the spoon back in the carton. _But I think I'll forego the matching tights for now and stick to jeans._

Jason took a few more bites before looking at his watch again; he'd been home for ten minutes. The teen examined what little remained of the ice cream in the container and got to his feet, zipping over and depositing the remnants in the freezer, his spoon clanging as it fell into the sink in his wake. _The only way to build up endurance is to keep on flying,_ he chided himself, making his way over to the window.

Jason was bound and determined to prove to his parents that they were wrong, to hell with the consequences.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019, 7:51 pm. **Clark landed with his wife in his arms in an alleyway not far from their apartment so that they could enjoy a quiet walk back by themselves. Hand in hand they strolled along the streets of Metropolis as a light snow began to fall; people around them walked faster or scrambled for cover from the flakes, pulling hats, gloves and scarves tighter around their extremities to ward off the cold. He and Lois, on the other hand, were oblivious to it all, gazing at one another like a pair of love-struck fools.

As they sauntered in through the lobby of their building still tangled up in each other's arms, Lois leaned in to whisper, "I know a way we can ward off the chill inside too." Her eyes darted up impishly to his face as they rode in the elevator, and she loved the little thrill she got watching his cheeks flush as she spoke. He was still enamored with her and flustered by her after eleven years of marriage and Lois had the pleasure of watching him fumble with the keys—first in his pocket, then in the door—then trip on the toe of his boot as they entered the dark space.

Everything was as they'd left it but Clark still sensed that something was off since they'd last set foot inside. "Wait here," he told her, urging her back into the doorway while he stalked off deeper into the apartment.

"What is it?" she cried out in a whisper, wondering what had spooked him.

"Hey Mom."

Lois squeaked and spun around. "Jason!" She looked down at the plastic bag in his hands then back up into his rosy cheeked face. "We thought you were at the movies with your friends!"

He ran a hand up the back of his head. "Uh, we were, but the show was sold out so I just decided to come home. I also kind of ate most of your ice cream too, so I ran around the corner to buy you some more. Hope you don't mind." Clark zipped into view behind her shoulder.

"Hey Dad."

The older man looked stunned to see him. "Why hello!" He whipped his head around to see what other surprises might lay out in the hallway with the tall teenager. "We thought you'd gone to the movies."

"It was sold out," Lois answered for her son, glancing down again at the bag of ice cream in his hand. For the life of her she couldn't recall Jason ever buying groceries before; normally he'd eat anything and everything in the house that was edible (and occasionally things that weren't), resulting in bi-weekly trips for her and her husband to the supermarket—sometimes even _tri-weekly_.

Jason caught her staring curiously at the grocery bag. "I'll, uh, just put this in the freezer," he announced, ducking between his folks to get inside.

Lois turned to her husband, sighing longingly. "Looks like another cold night for you, Farm Boy," she announced as she moved past him, doffing her coat. She felt his eyes on her backside as she swaggered all the way down the hall. The only thing the poor man could do was groan.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 15, 2019, 7:46 pm. **Jason hovered over the apartment again after his zig-zag strength building trek around the States; his muscles trembled ever so slightly but he knew he'd only be worse for wear the following morning. He was about to descend when he caught the very distinct sound of his parents' voices on the ground below; not only that, but they were _giggling. _Like teenagers. He shuddered in place and not from the cold.

_Dad's going to know something's off the minute he sets foot in the apartment, I just know it. Crap!_ Lowering himself gently onto the roof of a nearby building, Jason strolled over to the stairwell, all the while attempting to come up with a plausible excuse for arriving home early. As he reached the ground level he knew what had to be done and darted over to the corner store.

Five minutes later he stood in the hallway outside his family's apartment, his mother standing in the doorway with her back to him. _Just play it cool..._"Hey Mom."

"Jason!" Her eyes darted down at the plastic bag in his hands then back up to his face. "We thought you were at the movies with your friends!"

_Pass the lie off as a truth, pass the lie off as a truth..._"Uh, we were, but the show was sold out so I just decided to come home. I also kind of ate most of your ice cream, so I ran around the corner to buy you some more. I hope you don't mind." He watched his father zip into view behind his mother's shoulder, looking concerned. "Hey Dad."

The older man's bright blue eyes went wide behind his fake glasses. "Why hello!" The two stared at one another a moment. "We thought you'd gone to the movies."

"It was sold out," his mom answered for him, not sounding wholly convinced. _Don't panic, just play it cool, _Jason reminded himself as the three looked at one another, searching for something else to say. "I'll, uh, just put this in the freezer." He ducked between his folks to get inside the apartment and away from their scrutinizing gazes.

From the kitchen, Jason heard his mother whisper, "Looks like another cold night for you, Farm Boy." The young man rolled his eyes and sighed at his parents' antics before quickly retreating to his room, his father heading back out the door to collect Haley.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**February 18, 2019. **Bright and early Monday morning found Perry White staring at his office door where two reporters huddled in conference waiting for him; to his surprise they turned out to be Lois and Clark Kent.

He cocked an eyebrow at them suspiciously as he approached. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong, Chief?" Lois retorted a little too sweetly. Perry stuck the key in the door and waltzed right on in, the duo entering behind him uninvited.

"Because you, Lois, are not a morning person and here it is, 8:15 on a Monday and you're out on the floor acting all chipper, so spill it." He took a sip of his coffee and settled down, watching the pair before him follow suit.

"Well you see…"

"The Arizona Police found Katherine Kowalski," Clark announced suddenly, not bothering to continue beating around the bush.

He put his coffee cup on the desk and looked over at the two of them. "They found who? How does this concern me? And in case you hadn't noticed, Kent, Arizona's a bit out of your jurisdiction."

"Katherine Kowalski, Kitty, Kitty Kowalski…you know, Chief! Lex Luthor's girlfriend! The one that helped him set that abomination out in the ocean and kidnapped me and Jason on the yacht!"

"Oh…OH! _Her!_…Well, well, well, isn't that interesting." The Editor-in-Chief's attention drifted out and away from the other occupants in the room.

"Yes it is, and we want to talk to her."

Perry did a double-take at the Midwestern man's straightforwardness; it was rare for him to display a bit of backbone, and why he chose to do so now was beyond the Chief's comprehension. "Why?"

"Because we've discovered that she's fighting extradition on account of Superman and I know that _he_ wants to speak with her regarding the incident in question. We want to act as mediators between the two parties and get an interview out of it for the _Planet_."

The older man mulled that over for awhile before turning to Lois who was busy crossing her legs in her seat. "Do you think there's a story there?"

"Do _I _think there's a story there? Chief, it doesn't really matter what _I_ think seeing as how you're still the _man_ in charge around here," she replied sarcastically.

He smiled at her indulgently. "Yes, but someday you'll be the _woman_ in charge and I want to see if you can put aside your personal feelings on the subject and look at the story objectively. We all know you and the blue Boy Scout are friends."

Lois grimaced and rolled her eyes while pushing her graying hair back off her face with a flourish. "Fine. I _do_ think there's a story here—Superman is still the _Planet's _number one seller and even though the New Krypton incident is old news Kitty's perspective on it isn't. We'd be killing two birds with one stone with an interview: a headlining Superman story for us AND the chance to help the Man of Steel deal close the book on a painful period from his past."

Perry nodded his head in agreement. "Good, I couldn't have said it any better. Now this isn't common knowledge or I would've heard about it already so who else knows she's been found?"

"In all of Metropolis, Arizona, or the two combined?" Clark asked, breaking back into the conversation which he'd unceremoniously been thrust out of. The Editor-in-Chief and his heir apparent looked him over curiously then continued the conversation on their own.

"Only a handful of police out in Arizona know who she really is—they caught her going around under an assumed name before discovering her true identity—and about three or four people in Metropolis know so right now I'd say less than ten total. The DA's fighting to get her back here for prosecution but the detective on the case in Arizona is as dead-set against that happening as Kitty."

"Good, good." Perry leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head and elbows out, a satisfied smile on his face.

"So does this mean we can go?" the man before him asked nervously.

"Go? Of course you're going! Heck, I'm surprised you haven't already talked to someone down in travel about making flight arrangements before seeing me!"

Lois got up from her seat, her husband following suit and looking as if he were about to say something more. "We're going to do that right now, Perry. Thanks." She tugged on Clark's sleeve, half-dragging him out of the office before he could offer another word edgewise.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 20, 2019. **"I _love_ waking up late in the morning next to you," Lois murmured as she rolled over in bed, stretching. The kids had already been corralled out of bed and sent off to school so it was just the two of them alone in the apartment. Clark reclined on top of the bedspread with the paper in his hands while two piping mugs of coffee sat on the nightstand, kept warm with short blasts of heat vision as he waited for her to wake up.

He lowered one corner of the paper and locked eyes with her. "Oh you do, do you?"

"Yep. Want to know why?"

"Enlighten me, please."

"Well before I met you I would have had to get up at the crack of dawn to get to the airport for my flight to Phoenix. Connor down in travel would've booked me a coach seat on a plane that would've had to make a random three-hour layover in Cincinnati, making my already long flight even longer; then I'd have had to get off the plane in Phoenix, get my luggage, drag my butt over to the rental car, schlep on over to the hotel, and after all that…that…" She yawned then rolled onto her side. "After all that CRAP I would've had to go follow the story. Oh, there'd be two or three days of chasing down leads, interviewing people, eating bad food and drinking even worse coffee, and then I'd have trudge back to the airport and do it all over again just to get home.'

"But you don't have to worry about any of that with me?" he asked, grinning at her and setting the paper aside.

"Nope. With you I get to sleep in late in my own bed, roll out the door twenty minutes before my interview if I want to and _still_ make it home for dinner at the end of the day. It's _marvelous_."

"Glad to hear you think so, because we've got about ten minutes before we have to head out of here or we're going to be late for the meeting at the prison."

Lois bolted up out of bed, her hair flying and her hazel eyes wide as she scanned the floor for available clothes. "WHAT?" she screamed as she tugged on the leg of the nearest pair of pants. "How could you let me do this, CLARK! Ugh!" She sniffed her shoulder and recoiled. "OOOOH, and I _really_ need a shower! Crap, crap, CRAP! I _**hate**_ interviewing like this, you know that!" She pulled the other pant leg on and stood in the middle of the bedroom, glaring at him.

Clark couldn't contain his laughter at the picture she made: her hair sticking out at all angles while she held on tight to the pants around her waist—his jeans, no less—and tried to shimmy out of her light blue nightgown. "Yes," he admitted between chuckles, "I do, which is why we actually have an hour before our meeting with Kitty. By the way, how are those fitting you?"

She stopped storming about the room long enough to look down at what she was wearing: the waist was as large as her shoulders were broad and the legs were bunched up near her ankles. Bending down she grabbed the nearest shoe available and flung it in his direction. He deflected easily and laughed louder, enjoying the joke made at her expense. "You think you're _funny_, Smallville? You think this is funny?" Lois took a flying leap toward the bed, landing on top of him and quickly straddling his torso, pinning him to the mattress. "Far from it, Mister! You're going to get what's coming to you..." She let the thought trail off as she tickled him mercilessly, a mere prelude of things to come.

* * *

_**Warren Women's Correctional Facility, Arizona, **_**February 20, 2019. **Clark paced nervously in the corridor in front of his wife, waiting for the guard to return and lead them into the room where Kitty Kowalski sat waiting with her attorney.

Lois leaned against the wall in her crisp black skirt suit, hands tucked behind her, eyes constantly on her husband. "Relax..."

"I know, I know," he retorted quickly, "But what if she..."

She put a hand out to stop him as he stood in front of her. Straightening up, she took a hold of his tie and adjusted the knot at his neck before smoothing out the rest of the cloth down his chest. "Honey, whatever Kitty has to tell us will be better than nothing, even if she has no idea what happened to the remaining crystals, ok?"

"Ok," he told himself, letting loose a deep breath. "Ok."

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent? Right this way," the guard announced, motioning for them to step into the room down the hall.

"Showtime," Lois whispered as she strolled forward.

* * *

Kitty's head was down, looking up only as her visitors entered the room; her eyes nearly bugged out of her head upon recognizing Lois.

"Nice to see you again too, Katherine," the reporter said icily as she strode toward the vacant seats opposite the prisoner at the table.

"I...I...I…"

Lois stared the stuttering woman down then turned to the attorney. "My name is Lois Lane-Kent from the _Daily Planet_ in Metropolis, and this is my partner, Clark Kent..." She turned around to introduce him only to find him still standing in the doorway.

Clark stood straighter the instant his eyes alighted on Kitty Kowalski and he remained rooted to the spot by the door. The years had changed her greatly but he still would've recognized her no matter where they met. He had to remind himself that she'd been duped by Lex like the dozens of other people he'd employed in his schemes all those years ago; her car careening about downtown had merely been a distraction for Superman, nothing more. Lois gave a sharp, pointed cough from her seat, breaking him out of his train of thought and he quickly took his place beside her.

"I'm Walter Giles," the man seated next to Kitty added, half-standing and offering the reporter his hand. He wore a nice suit, but the jacket swung loosely around him, revealing his true diminutive stature.

"Pleasure to meet you."

Clark peered anxiously into Kitty's face to see what kind of reading he could get off her but it was difficult to tell. Her hair hung limply and accentuated the dark circles under her eyes and the frown lines around her lips. She had no make-up on and her faux jewelry had all been taken away when she entered lock-up; that, combined with the drab prison uniform she wore only served to hammer home how unremarkable she truly was.

Lois forged on as Clark stared the other woman down. "Miss Kowalski, we came here to interview you today about what happened in Metropolis in 2006 but we'd also like to ask you some questions on behalf of Superman," she announced.

His name alone got Katherine's attention and her head snapped up. "NO!" she shouted, eyes darting around the room frantically, searching for a means of escape. "He knows I'm here? I don't want him to know I'm here, oh God, don't let them send me back to Metropolis..." She turned to her attorney and clung to his arm as if it were her only lifeline.

"You're not going anywhere, Katherine," the lawyer assured her. "Mrs. Lane-Kent, this wasn't part of the agreement we had with the District Attorney's office..."

She ignored him. "He's not mad at you, Kitty, honest, he just wants to know what happened to certain personal items of his that Luthor stole." Shocked silence filled the room.

"I take it you know what we're referring to?" Clark added, speaking for the first time since they entered. The downtrodden woman nodded meekly. "Might you be able to tell us anything about them? It can only help your cause now. Superman just wants to know what happened..."

Mr. Giles chimed in. "I'm sorry, but before my client utters another word I'd like to know what 'personal items' you two are referring to."

"The crystals," the prisoner replied, looking at her attorney with red-rimmed eyes. "They're talking about the crystals Lex stole from S-Super...Superman's palace."

He looked down at his client in shock. "This interview is over."

"WHAT?" Lois cried out, leaping up from her seat as the toady-looking lawyer moved to call the guard. "We haven't even gotten started!"

"Nor will you until I've worked out a new deal with the District Attorney to prevent Miss Kowalski's extradition." Turning again to his client, he added, "Katherine, don't you say another word. Good day Mr. Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent." He swooped out of the room with such rapidity Lois could've sworn she saw a plume of smoke trail behind him. The guard came over to take Kitty back to her cell.

"I'm sorry," she said, her brown eyes swimming with remorse. "Tell him I'm sorry. I should've quit Lex before that stupid boat trip but I didn't, I just didn't and please," she repeated, looking straight up into Clark's face almost as if she could see through his disguise, "Tell him I'm sorry."

"We will," he repeated solemnly as she was led from the room.

Lois sank dejectedly back into her seat. "Well that got us nowhere."

He looked over at her and nodded in agreement, equally despondent. "Looks like we bought ourselves another trip to Arizona."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry this is late! I got an unexpected last-minute invite to spend the weekend on the Vineyard (my first time there EVER!) and just ran with it. I thought I'd be back by last night by Cape traffic has a funny way of getting backed up for seven+ miles...so again, I'm sorry I'm late and I hope you like the chapter. Remember if you leave a review I will send you a sneak peek of the next chapter, and as always, enjoy.

And Happy Belated Birthday, CountryLexLuv! Hope you like your gift!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_**Precinct 16 Headquarters, Metropolis, **_**August 20, 2019. **"Al?"

Henrickson perked up a bit at Ashburton's voice on the other end of the line. "Yeah?"

"I've got some news for you."

The older man sighed as he looked out over his desk. Five days ago it was the cleanest it'd ever been—every last file, scrap of paper and commendation packed away to be taken home or placed in storage, clearing the way for the next man or woman who would take his place; but now that he'd put off his retirement indefinitely it looked like it always had: barely controlled chaos. "Hit me with it."

"I have it on good authority that Miss Kowalski's lawyer has an ace up his sleeve for keeping her here in Arizona."

"Oh you do, do you?" He sat there silently praying that the stupid woman had had out with it already so he could pass some news along to Clark.

"Uh huh. Apparently those reporter friends of yours started asking questions about some 'personal items' stolen from Superman during the whole New Krypton debacle and her attorney thinks he can force your DA's hand with his client's information."

Al pulled a pad of fresh paper out and sat with his pen poised and ready. "And _does_ she know anything about it?"

The other man paused on the other end of the line. "My gut says she does," Dave answered quietly, "But on the advice of her attorney she's keeping her trap shut until this is all resolved; and for once she's actually listening. No way is she going to talk to anybody—those reporters or any of us cops, for that matter—and if her guy has his way with your DA then it could take weeks before she opens her mouth again."

"_Great._"

"How do you think I feel?" the detective snapped.

"I know," the Lieutenant hastened to explain, "And you're right. Now all we can do is wait."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**February 28, 2019. **Jason crept out of bed and slunk into the hallway, checking to see if he was clear for take-off. It looked like tonight wasn't his night, however, because he could clearly hear his parents engaged in heavy conversation down the hall. Disappointment took hold—it'd been days since he'd last flown unaccompanied and he was itching to get out again. His endurance had improved a lot in the last two weeks but he knew he still needed the practice. He'd even taken to flying and hovering out in space, just like his father did from time to time, and his lung capacity had expanded as a result.

Wondering what was so all-important that it was keeping him from flying Jason decided to move further down the hall, standing in the doorway to the bathroom to better eavesdrop on his parents' conversation.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long just to get another interview with her," he heard his mother say angrily, slamming a dresser drawer closed before crossing the room. "The way they're fighting over her you'd think she was some sort of trussed up turkey..."

"Well she kind of is, Lois. I mean, for the police out in Arizona she's evidence of a job well done and a chance to show the city that the system works, while the officials here in Metropolis want her so they can prove the same thing, not only to Superman but to the city at large. If Kitty had just wronged me, personally, I doubt there'd be this much hoopla for her but whenever Superman's involved..."

"Don't remind me."

_Kitty? Who's Kitty and what'd she do to Dad?_ Jason wondered._ And why does that name sound vaguely familiar? _He stared in consternation at the door until it melted away, watching his mother go about setting out her clothes for the next morning while his father did likewise on his side of the room with his Suit before slipping in under the covers.

"And what about what she did to me and Jason too, hmm?" his mother cried out again. "You think we don't deserve a little justice? She and her _boyfriend_ left us on that yacht to die, Clark! What if you hadn't been there? What then?"

His face fell as he flashed back to the pantry of the ship going underwater, almost killing him, his mom and his Uncle Richard; none of them ever openly talked about 'the yacht' ever again and Luthor's name was completely verboten. _That woman on the boat, __that__ must've been Kitty! _Jason shook his head in disbelief and re-focused on his parents' room. _But why bring it all up again now? That was over a dozen years ago._

His father had gotten back out of bed and stood embracing his mother in the center of the room. "I know how scary it was and don't think I don't know how different life would've been if I hadn't gotten there when I did."

She nodded dumbly and backed away, moving to the closet to pull out a pair of heels for her outfit while still obviously pained at the recollection. Very flippantly she added, "Honestly, at this point I don't care where she rots in jail just so long as she rots. All I want from her now is to tell us what happened to your crystals so you can get some closure."

Jason's heart leapt in his chest at the astounding news. He'd only seen the jewels from Krypton once—briefly—in the whole of his existence, and that had been on the same boat where they'd been lost to his father. He remembered them looking larger than life as they lay on the velvet wrap on the desk and the warmth that emanated from them as his fingers grazed their ridges...

"Well hopefully by this time tomorrow we should have some answers," his father replied in a falsely optimistic tone. It was evident that even he felt there was little to be gleaned from the woman in custody out west. Jason heard his dad shift quickly in bed and the young man slipped into the bathroom before he could be found out.

* * *

Lois watched her husband twitch and stare hard at the door to their room. "What is it, one of the kids?" she asked, turning and following his gaze only to stare at solid wood.

He nodded. "Jason. For a second I thought…oh well, it doesn't matter, I was wrong." Clark turned and kissed her on the lips as he sunk deeper under the covers, easily dismissing the incident, and fell deeply asleep with an arm wrapped protectively around his wife.

* * *

_**Warren Women's Correctional Facility, **_**Arizona, March 1, 2019. **The two reporters strolled into the same dreary, dimly lit room as before to find Walter Giles standing behind his client, hands on her shoulders. An eerie, Cheshire cat-like grin spread across his face as he beamed at his accomplishments.

"Mrs. Lane-Kent, Mr. Kent, pleasure to see you again."

The pair glared at him and seated themselves opposite Kitty; the intervening two weeks hadn't been any kinder to her, but she appeared more resigned to her fate then before. "How are you doing, Katherine?" Clark asked with genuine concern, looking deep into her eyes.

"I'm...I'm..."

"She's much better now that we've got this whole mess straightened out," her attorney answered for her, patting her shoulder for emphasis. "Aren't you, Miss Kowalski?"

She nodded meekly. "Yes."

For a brief moment Lois felt sorry for the older woman. Kitty had so little sense of self-worth that she became easily consumed by whichever larger personality got a hold of her. She imagined it started with her father, then a boyfriend…_then Lex, and now she's getting it from her lawyer too. It's despicable. _A small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth and she forced herself to look up into the ratty man's face.

"What kind of deal were you and Lynchburg able to work out?" she asked pointedly.

The man sat down next to his client, still smiling. "Miss Kowalski will not be turned over to Metropolis PD's custody; instead, she will face trial here in Arizona, with her time for the New Krypton crime to be served concurrently with her time here on the fraud charges. More than likely she will be eligible for parole in fifteen to twenty years."

"Fifteen to twenty years?" the woman squawked in surprise. "But I thought you said…" Walter wagged a finger in her direction, instantly silencing her. Kitty huffed in her seat, arms folded across her chest, greatly distressed.

"Katherine, will you tell us now what happened to the items Lex stole from Superman? Do you know where they might be?"

Leave it to Clark to try and gently coax the information out of her. Lois had to admire her husband—had she been in his shoes she's not sure she would've been able to show the same amount of restraint and composure in front of a New Krypton accomplice, even one as easily duped as Kitty. He truly was a compassionate and forgiving man.

Kitty threw back her shoulders, her self-importance growing with the journalist's attention. "I know exactly where they are...well, not _exactly_ exactly, but I do _know_."

Lois was pretty sure she heard his heart leap out of his chest in joy at the news but Clark quickly drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. "Would you mind telling us where they are then?" The prisoner's eyes darted over to her lawyer's and he nodded reassuringly, urging her to comply.

"Lex knew that something was wrong with the island before the rest of us did. He told me to run for the helicopter—the only nice thing he ever did for me, by the way—and we got there just before this giant crystal pillar fell. It crushed Stanford and Riley and Grant…anyhow, Lex knew that Superman was involved he just didn't know that he was lifting the whole freaking island up out of the water. When we got into the helicopter he handed me this velvet bag while he started turning stuff on so we could get the hell out of there. I knew what was in the bag—I saw him grab it before we ran for the helicopter—but I looked inside anyway because I wanted to see them for myself. I mean, how close does anyone ever get to alien stuff like that, you know?

"I also knew that no matter what happened so long as Lex had that bag he would try again. He didn't care about the guys, he didn't care about me, he didn't care about the people who _would_ have died if he'd succeeded…all he cared about was killing Superman. He was like that guy in that book…you know, the one that chases the white whale?"

"You mean Moby Dick?" Lois answered, startled by the woman's semi-intelligent reference.

"Yeah, that one! Lex was like that crazy Captain What's-His-Name so I did the first thing that I could think of: I dumped the crystals out the door."

Both reporter's eyes went wide at the disclosure. "You dumped them into the ocean?"

"No way!" Kitty replied, almost laughingly, "I saw what happened to those things when they hit the water! Besides, we hadn't even taken off yet; no, they're on that island Lex made, the one out in space."

Clark struggled not to let his disappointment show. "They're on New Krypton."

"Yeah. Didn't I just say that?" Kitty retorted glibly. She rolled her eyes and looked over at Lois. "Why does Superman care so much anyway? He has a whole palace full of 'em, can't he just make some more?"

"It doesn't work like that," her husband answered for her, his voice involuntarily dropping an octave as he spoke. "Those crystals were special, they contained knowledge and images of m—..."

"…his home world!" Lois blurted out. Everyone jerked their head sharply at her outburst. "The crystals contained knowledge and images of _his_ home world, that's why they're so important. They're irreplaceable."

"Oh." Kitty lowered her head at the news.

The lawyer looked around the table at the three cheerless faces. "Well this is quite an interview, isn't it? Let's move on, shall we? I'm sure you have other questions you'd like to have answered..."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**March 1, 2019. **The final bell rang and Jason all but bolted for the nearest exit with his super-speed barely in check. _I have thirty-five minutes, _he reminded himself as he ran past the buses and kids ducking into their cars to go home, _Thirty-five minutes before I have to meet Haley at her bus drop off. _Jason looked down at his feet as he rounded the edge of the school property. _Move, Kent, move!_

He wished there were more opportune places within city limits where he could just take-off on a quick jaunt but those safe spots were few and far between. The best place closest to Jack Larson High, he discovered, was an alleyway behind a block of businesses five-minutes away. The commingling smells of discarded Indian food, leather scraps and melting ice cream created an abominable stench that rose up from the dumpsters and kept even the rats away. All Jason could do was pinch the bridge of his nose below his glasses to ward off the smell.

Taking a quick look around to make sure he was truly alone he pulled off his glasses and tucked them into their case in his backpack. He'd been practicing spinning in and out of his clothes for the last week and felt he had the feat down pat but when he attempted it now he found he was wearing his black spandex shirt backwards and inside out. _Ok, maybe I need a __**little **__more practice…_

The third try saw him properly dressed from head to toe and he hefted the bag back onto his shoulders; he'd loaded it up with every book in his locker and his plan was to hurtle himself straight up into space—the weight wouldn't matter once he left the atmosphere but it was good training for speed and endurance nonetheless. Jason knew that with his lung capacity he had _at most_ twenty-seven minutes of air once he cleared the clouds, so he set his watch for twenty-five and took off without wasting one precious second of time.

It took him awhile but when he finally stopped hurtling upward the view that greeted him left him completely astounded.

Earth was just a tiny blue/green marble against a starry backdrop, twirling in swift revolutions like a toy top on an invisible plane. The sun shone brilliantly against the back of the planet, highlighting it's liliputian size and illustrating that only a much higher power could have organized the universe and done it so beautifully. If he weren't already carefully holding his breath the sight would have literally taken it away.

He flew around aimlessly for awhile, enjoying the silence of space, until the watch jiggled on his wrist signaling his free time was at an end. With a look of longing he stared out into the great expanse one last time before launching himself back toward Metropolis so he could pick-up Haley since their folks were out of town.

Looming ominously off in the distance behind him sat the dark jagged mass known as New Krypton—a great, glaring blight to all the perfection around him.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**March 1, 2019. **Haley eyed her dad carefully as she nestled against his side while they watched TV. The mood in the house had changed; it was sad, and she'd picked up on that, but she didn't know _why_ it was sad—nor did she believe she'd get a straight answer from anyone even if she asked. Her dad had been acting weird ever since he got home and, wanting to make him feel better, Haley followed him around the apartment all night because he always told her she was his own little ray of sunshine.

But it was still late and she felt a yawn bubbling up inside of her.

"Looks like it's bedtime for this little cookie." Her father scooped her up in one swoop and carried her down the hall with his hands under knees and her back against his chest; the Kents always teased that he was carrying his Princess on her throne.

"But I'm not..." Another yawn cut her off as he was about to turn into her room. "I'm not tired!"

"Oh really?" His eyebrow shot up and Haley knew she was lost—still, she wasn't about to go to bed quietly. She plunked the glasses off his face and onto hers, staring out at the room with blue eyes that grew to three times their normal size behind the thick lenses. Not for the first time she wondered why all the people in his office couldn't tell the difference between him and Superman; after all, Superman was just dad without the glasses.

He chuckled and settled her into bed, brushing the dark, unruly hair off her face.

"How come people don't recognize you when you're not wearing these?" she asked, peering up at him as he tucked the sheets in around her.

He'd pulled a Bella Ballerina book off a nearby shelf and paused momentarily before settling down on the bed beside her, the story lingering in his lap. "We've talked about this a couple times before, you and I. Do you remember?"

"Uh huh, but I still don't get it. You're Daddy in a tie and glasses and you're Daddy when you're wearing this," she reached up and traced the El-crest on the front of his shirt, "So why don't people see it?"

"Well, Sweetie, it's all about perceptions." He quickly took the glasses back from her and stood up, exaggerating the usual hunch of his shoulders and aloof attitude he adopted in the office. "I act this way at work," he took a few steps forward and tripped on the area rug, causing the little girl to squeal at his antics, "But when I'm dressed like Superman I act like this." He spun in place until he stood before her wearing the Suit, much to Haley's delight. She clapped her hands as he swapped one 'costume' for the other and her face exploded in a wide grin. His blue-clad arms were now clasped across his chest in the trademark pose, and the spit curl fell free from the rest of his locks and landed in the middle of his forehead.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed and picked up the book again. "People think that I'm _very_ clumsy so when they see me outside the office at a rescue—even if they think I _look _like their co-worker—they don't believe it. It's an act I put on to throw off suspicion."

"So you can live here with me and Mom and Jason?"

"Uh huh, and so I can take care of you guys."

Haley pulled an arm out from under the sheets. "But I can take care of myself, see! I'm strong like you!" With a very serious look on her face she flexed her arm to make a muscle and he reached out to test it.

"Wow, Hales! You're right, you _are _strong! But I don't just mean taking care of you guys like that, I mean making sure you have a place to live, clothes to wear and food in your tummy." He tickled her over the sheets and she started to giggle and squirm. "But more importantly I take care of you three and make sure you know that you're loved because that's how much I love you guys. I love the three of you so much that I want to be around you as much as I can every single day."

She thought about that a moment when a new question popped into her head. "But who takes care of you?"

He was about to respond when her mother chimed in from the doorway where she'd been watching them unobserved. "We do, Baby. You, me and Jason, we all take care of Daddy." Haley watched him smile at that as her mother walked into the room and stood behind him, placing a hand on his back as they both looked back at her.

"Oh. That makes," she yawned for the umpteenth time, "That makes sense."

"Glad to hear it. We'll start this Bella story another time." Her father put the book down on the nightstand and leaned over, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "Good night, Cookie, sleep tight. I love you."

"Love you too," she mumbled, nestling against the pillow as sleep overcame her. Her mother kissed her as well before following her father out of the room.

* * *

He'd been standoff-ish for the better part of the evening, lost in his own thoughts...even Jason and Haley noticed the shift in his mood though they weren't aware of all that was going on. Still, their daughter did her best to cheer him up all night and for that Lois had to smile; it was exactly what she would have done if the circumstances were different but they weren't, they were what they were and tonight she knew it was her duty to provoke the sleeping bear. Drawing a deep breath Lois squared herself for what was to come.

Clark headed for their room some minutes later still dressed in his Suit and sat down on the opposite side of the mattress to tug off his boots.

"Did you look in on Jason?" she asked, glancing up from the novel in her hands.

"I did. I asked if he wanted to get some practice in over the weekend but he said he'd have to check and see. I really think we need to buckle down and work on his powers before he goes off to school in the fall so that nothing happens; besides, we don't get out nearly as much as we used to."

"No, you're right, you don't."

He stood up and reached around to unzip the spandex without looking at her. Lois set her book down on the nightstand and halted the sigh on her lips at the thought of the conversation to come. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what? About Jason?"

"_Clark_…" She couldn't tell if he was being purposefully obtuse or if this really wasn't an act; he was like that in the office sometimes too and she had to admit that he really knew how to sell the aloof bit when he wanted to.

"Oh, you want to talk about this afternoon." A steely mask replaced the easy, if entirely fake, look he wore just a moment before. "What's there to talk about? They're gone, they're out of my reach on New Krypton and I'll never get them back." The more he spoke the more indignant he got. "Short of NASA launching a shuttle and landing on the g-ddamn thing to get them back for me I don't know what point there is in talking about it!"

"Good, get angry!" Lois pulled herself more upright in bed and readied for the fight.

"What's the point in getting angry? It's been twelve years! It's not like I magically thought they were going to drop out of the sky someday and fall into my lap..."

"Bull! That's exactly what you thought! Maybe not the magic part but admit it, a part of you always hoped they'd be returned to you _someday_."

Clark squared his jaw and narrowed his eyes at being called out. "Fine, ok, you're right! Are you happy now, Lo, huh? As if this day weren't already shitty enough..."

She flung the sheets back and jumped out of bed. "No, I'm not happy, how can you even think that? But you can't just bottle it all up all the time, it's not healthy!"

"What, are you afraid I'll get pissed off and go all 'super' in the bullpen, _Ms. Lane_?" he retorted, glaring at her.

The use of her maiden name threw her off and revealed how upset he truly was."Oh yeah, like _that_ hasn't happened before!" she flung back. The two stood on opposite sides of the bed fuming at one another with Lois' hands balled into fists at her sides. This was not how she had foreseen this unfolding…

* * *

Jason lay awake in bed, hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the sticker stars affixed to his ceiling; it was a project he and his Dad had done a few months before Haley was born when they moved him into his new room. The artificial light that made the plastic stars twinkle was nothing compared to the sight of _actual_ stars but he liked them up there nonetheless; he wouldn't admit it but he found them to be rather comforting.

Without warning his door burst open and Haley rushed in, a white and purple blur as she sped over and leapt onto his bed. She flung her arms about his waist and buried her head in his chest trying to drown out the noise from down the hall. "They're fighting," came her muffled explanation.

He hadn't been paying attention but he didn't have to strain hard to pick up on the argument down the hall.

"_What's there to talk about? They're gone, they're out of my reach on New Krypton and I'll never get them back." _His father waited a second before adding, _"Short of NASA launching a shuttle and landing on the g-ddamn thing to get them back for me I don't know what point there is in talking about it!"_

That wasn't good. They'd certainly disagreed from time-to-time but to have a full-blown, knock-down, drag-out fight like this...well, that happened with far less frequency. No wonder his sister was shaking

"_Good, get angry!"_ The little girl beside him clasped her hands over her ears. _They must be talking about that woman in Arizona and Dad's crystals, _Jason mused, letting out a small sigh. _If they're on New Krypton then no way is Dad ever getting them back._

He squeezed Haley tight. Several of her classmates' parents were going through divorces that year and every time their parents even briefly raised their voices she worried that they'd separate too, no matter how many times they reassured her that that wasn't going to happen; in fact, Jason tried to reassure her again now. "Hey now, Hales, it's ok. They're just talking things out." She shot him a pointed look. "Ok, they're talking things out rather _loudly_, but they're still talking. It's when they're not talking that you should worry."

"Are you sure?" she asked him suspiciously, lowering her hands from her ears ever so slightly.

He recalled the time at the ball field when his mother stumbled upon the big secret and how neither of his parents spoke to one another for two weeks. That had been a difficult time for all three of them. The teen vigorously nodded his head and he felt Haley relax a little in his arms.

"Can I still stay here until they stop?"

"Sure." He shifted over in bed and reached out to turn off the lamp, hoping she'd manage to drift off to sleep soon and not pepper him with questions while he pondered his own future plans.

* * *

Five minutes in and the fight was still going strong. "How many near death experiences do you want me to have? You saw me after I fell, I almost _died_ trying to toss that thing out there, what makes you think it'd be any easier for me to approach it now? There's no way I can get close enough to even search for the crystals, let alone get them back!"

She ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. "I _know_ that, Clark, what do you think I'm trying to say? Do you think I'm _trying_ to kill you?" Her husband rolled his eyes at her and shot her a look as he folded his arms across his bare chest, having changed into his pajama pants mid-fight. "Oh my God, you really think I'm trying to kill you?" she squeaked.

"No I don't but I _know_ you're provoking me—I'm just too mad to figure out why!"

"I already told you it's because it's no good for you to keep this all bottled up inside! Besides, at least now we know that the crystals aren't gone completely...we'll find a way to get them back some day, you just have to have hope!"

Clark closed his eyes and lowered his chin ever so slightly—not in defeat but in resignation. "I know you're trying to be the optimistic one here for a change, but we both need to come to terms with the fact that _they're gone_. I'll get over this too and move on eventually, ok?" He watched her sit down on the edge of the bed, back to him, still seething with anger.

"For once I wish my cynicism hadn't rubbed off on you," she answered quietly. Without warning she turned off the lamp, plunging her half of the room into darkness as she slipped back under the covers, leaving neither one of them feeling as though the air had been cleared.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_**Metropolis, **_**March 3, 2019. **Al, Martha, Jim and Chloe sat around the Kent's dining room table while the last remnants of a fine dinner were being swept away by their hosts; all four also waited for the children to clear out of the room before addressing the pressing topic that had brought them together that evening.

"I'll be back later!" Jason called out over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket and backpack and headed for the door.

Lois poked her head out through the breakfast bar that connected the dining room and kitchen. "Wait! Whose house are you going to again?"

"I'll be at Sean's hanging out with the guys."

"Ok. Don't stay out too late—you know it's a school night."

"I know," he replied, shutting the door behind him.

Chloe lifted up the little boy sitting on her lap and placed him beside her on his feet. "Chris, Sweetie, why don't you go play with the older kids for a little while, ok? The grown ups want to talk for a bit."

"Ok." He toddled off down the hall toward Haley's room where the three older children had retreated after dinner. Only the occasional sound of laughter and play punctuated the silence around the table.

Al looked at the anxious faces surrounding him before turning to Clark as the tall man re-seated himself at the head of the table. "So, what's the news from out west?"

"First things first, Al; not everyone here knows what's been going on."

"Clark!" Martha cried out, all astonishment, "You haven't been keeping secrets, have you?"

"Not exactly," Lois replied as she entered the room with a coffee carafe in hand. "We've been waiting for information to pan out."

"You all remember what Luthor created when I came back from trying to find Krypton..." Clark started.

"You say that like any one of us here could forget," Chloe responded as she passed Jim the milk pitcher.

"Well what many of you don't know is that he had a girlfriend at the time, a woman by the name of Katherine Kowalski."

"Ok…"

"Kitty escaped with Lex before I launched New Krypton into space. We didn't know that then and even after he resurfaced we had no way of tracking her down. Only recently was she apprehended."

"_Very_ recently," Al reiterated.

"So that's the story you two were chasing out in Arizona then? Interviewing her?" Jim surmised, turning to his friends for confirmation over their recent absences.

Lois nodded her head. "Yes, but that's only part of it."

The tall man heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses sitting innocuously on the table as the conversation came to a head. "Luthor made the island out of Kryptonite but he jump-started the process by using crystals that were sent with me to Earth."

Martha inhaled sharply, not having known before what created the giant land mass; she'd been too consumed with worry in the aftermath of it's removal to question the means that brought it into being. "These weren't ordinary crystals," Lois hastened to add. "They were like—well I don't know how to describe them. They were like organic hard drives, I guess; they held all sorts of information about Clark's home world, other galaxies, his biological parents..."

"I kept them up north in the Fortress even after I left for Krypton; I assumed that since they were stored so deep in the Arctic they'd be safe. Clearly I was wrong. Luthor somehow managed to steal them shortly before I returned and he was able to discover the power that they held." Clark looked around as the news sunk in to those present at the table, the dejected looks on their faces speaking volumes, and he took a small sip of coffee before proceeding. "It only took one crystal to create New Krypton, but he stole all eight, robbing the Fortress of it's power and me of a large part of my history. Over the years I wondered what had happened to the remaining seven but with Luthor dead and gone there was no way to know for sure..."

"Until now," Chloe finished for her friend. "So what'd Kitty tell you?"

Lois locked eyes with her husband knowing how overwhelmed with emotion he still was over the events of the last few days. "She told us that she dumped them on the island shortly before she and Luthor escaped. They're floating out in space."

"And now we know for a fact that they're gone," Clark concluded sadly.

"Oh Clark..." Martha bemoaned. The rest of them stared down at the tablecloth looking very somber.

Jim, ever the optimist, thought about it for a few moments before asking, "Isn't there a back-up or something? At the Fortress, I mean, isn't there some way of retrieving the information? Like an extra hard drive with most of the information still on it? Maybe Chloe can take a look, she's good with computers, maybe she can..."

"I can't, Jim," she interjected. "I wish I could, but I can't. I've seen the Fortress before and the technology up there is way out of my league. I wouldn't even know where to start looking for any back-up information let alone know how to pull it up so Clark could access it."

Clark nodded in agreement with Chloe. "Not only that but the crystals were the Fortress' power source; there'd be no way to recover it without at least one crystal remaining."

"Oh."

All the guests sat still, feeling the supreme weight of Clark's decade-old loss.

"Looks like Jor-el and I were both wrong in assuming that the single set of crystals would be safe on this planet."

* * *

Lois heard the key in the door as she sat on the sofa with Clark watching a movie, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, while Haley slept in her room down the hall tuckered out by her visit with the cousins. She turned around and watched her eldest slip in, his shaggy hair in his face and his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and watched as he set his backpack down carefully beside the hall tree.

"Did you have a good time at Sean's tonight?"

"Huh?" he asked dumbly, looking up and seeing her for the first time. "Uh yeah, fine."

Clark turned around to study their son as well. "You boys do anything in particular?"

"No, just hung out. Nothing special."

"Did your nothing special happen to revolve around talk over a certain Maggie Dillinger?" Lois asked impishly, knowing the crush he had developed on that particular brunette cheerleader.

"No, it didn't. Well I'm beat...good night!" Jason ducked swiftly down the hall without another word.

Alarm bells went off in Lois' head. _He didn't even blush when I mentioned Maggie, something's wrong. _She turned to her husband who had resumed watching the movie with little fanfare. "Did any of that seem strange to you?"

"Hmm? Did any of what seem strange?"

"Just now, with Jason, did any of that seem strange to you?"

He crinkled his brow as he looked over at her. "_No_...he seems fine, why?"

But Lois couldn't pinpoint any one phrase or signal that made her uneasy and so she dismissed her apprehension. "Nothing, never mind."

* * *

Jason waited until his bedroom door was safely closed behind him before exhaling in relief. His limbs trembled with tension and he turned around to take a good long look at himself in the mirror.

His cheeks were sallow and he could've sworn he saw dark circles developing under his eyes as he held the bangs up off his forehead. This trip had not been so easy and it showed on his face but he stubbornly chose instead to forge ahead with his cockamamie plan rather then back down. Defeat simply wasn't a word in his vocabulary.

Slipping out of his shoes he crossed the clothes-laden floor over to his bed and flopped down stomach-first on the coverlet, gripping the pillow tightly under his arms. He slept heavily the entire night and well into the following morning.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**March 4, 2019. **"So, kids, how was your vacation?" Perry called out to his ace reporters. He'd been standing by Ralph's desk with a copy of an article in his hands and he eyed the pair eagerly over the tops of his glasses.

"Vacation? You call following a story to Arizona and _working_ a vacation?" Lois asked as she made a bee-line for him. "I'd hate to see what kind of holiday you'd take if you ever took one, Old Man. And those seats on that flight, oh Lord…"

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and turned his attention back to the article. "Hey, don't bitch to me, take it up with travel. You don't like flying coach you tell them and see if they can get the big wigs upstairs to increase the budget. Now tell me what you were able to learn from the Kowalski woman; I hope it was worth it."

"Depends on who you ask," Clark answered his Editor-in-Chief sullenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, we were able to learn a good deal," Lois cut in, giving her husband the death glare while smiling at their boss. "The extent of her involvement with Luthor, how he got the idea to create New Krypton, all sorts of interesting stuff."

"Good. I want a piece for the front page by early afternoon…by the way, any word from Superman on his feelings about this yet?"

She looked back over her shoulder and took in her husband's cheerless image to see if he wanted to respond. Clearly, he didn't. "He's pretty disappointed, Chief, but at least now there's closure. He's glad that justice is being served for all involved."

"Good, good, now get me that article by two at the latest, ok? I want to be able to give you two time for a re-write if need be..." His voice trailed off as he walked back to his office, Ralph's article in hand, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Clark pulled away from his wife and made his way over to his desk, flicking the computer on AND lifting up the telephone handset to check his voicemail.

"Just hang in there, Honey," Lois whispered encouragingly from across the way. He continued entering in his password and nodded along so she knew he'd heard. "After tomorrow this will all be just a memory."

Deep down he knew she was right but he wished his heart would hurry up and get the memo—the ache he felt over his loss was almost comparable to all his past exposures to Kryptonite.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter is so short but I promise you I more than make up for it with the next two! And remember, all reviewers get a sneak peek of the chapter to come so don't forget to let me know what you think of the story thus far!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_**Metropolis, **_**March 29, 2019. **Haley awoke in her bed, her head still fuzzy with sleep, one arm wrapped protectively around her battered bear Bobo. She'd found it difficult to settle down the previous evening and for the life of her now she couldn't remember why.

The significance of the day suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. "I'M TEN!" She threw back the covers and ran for the door without putting anything on her feet, squealing with delight all the way. Dashing around the apartment at super-speed she cried out, "I'M TEN, I'M TEN, I'M TEN, I'M TEN, I'M TEN, I'M TEN I'M TE—_**WHOA**_!"

The little girl ran headlong into her brother's steely frame as he stood just inside the kitchen helping their mother set up streamers for her special day. She tottered back seeing stars before her eyes and shaking her head.

"HALEY!" Lois jumped down off the step stool and rushed to her daughter's side, brushing the dark hair off her forehead for any sign bruising. She was dense but she wasn't invincible yet. "Are you alright?" Jason rubbed the spot where she'd hit him, her tiny figure barely tickling his skin.

"Uh..." She nodded her head slowly as her wits returned. "Uh huh, I'm ok."

"You have to watch where you're going there, Cookie," Clark announced as he sped to the kitchen entryway to check on her. "I don't know how many times we've told you that."

"I know." Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as her mother stood up and went back to decorating. "Sorry, Jace."

"It's ok." He reached out a hand and patted her rather patronizingly on the head. Grinning at his parents he decided to chide his little sister on. "So, what was all that ruckus about?"

"Oh yeah! I'm ten years old today!" She held both hands splayed out before her to emphasize the point and Lois chuckled as she watched over her shoulder.

"You are?" their father cried out, all astonishment. He looked from his wife to his son and back to his little girl again but not before scooping her up in his arms and tossing her into the air. Catching her and cradling her close he tickled her ribs and peered into her tiny laughing face. "Hmmm…do you _feel_ ten, Hales?"

"Uh huh!"

"Jason, what do you think, does she look ten to you?"

He held Haley out for inspection and Jason studied her closely with one hand resting on his chin as if in deep thought. "I don't know...I'd say she looked more like nine and a half to me, and that's pushing it."

"Nine and a half? Nine and _a half_?" Distressed, Haley stretched her arms out for her mother. "Mom, tell them I'm really ten!"

"Now now," the woman said, taking her daughter off her husband's hip and transferring her back to the ground, "A young lady never reveals her age." The two shared a sly, knowing smile and Lois bopped her daughter on the nose before sending her scampering over to the breakfast table. Haley was about to climb into her seat when she turned around and stuck her tongue out at the boys, the pair sharing a laugh at her antics.

Clark sidled over to his wife as he caught his breath, standing behind her with his hands on her hips and his chin resting on her shoulder. "I can't believe it's been ten years," he whispered dreamily, recalling the day that their second miracle was born.

* * *

She brought a hand up to caress his cheek. "Neither can I."

Before things got any more physical, their teenager cried out mockingly, "Hey you two, there's a very impressionable ten year old in there!" He reached around his folks for the milk before escaping to the table to join his sister.

"Ugh, you!" Lois cried out in happy exasperation.

She couldn't put her finger on the specific moment when it happened, but the air in the house had been considerably lightened in recent weeks. The warning signs of imminent teenage rebellion that Jason had been exhibiting a month and a half earlier were now nowhere to be found and Clark's depression over the permanent loss of his crystals had also abated. All in all Lois couldn't recall a time when her family had ever been happier or getting along so 'normally' in the last eleven years…and loathe as she was to admit it she was growing accustomed to the nice, domestic, change of pace.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**March 29, 2019, 6:15 pm. **Ella Lane was the last to arrive for Haley's family birthday party—well, almost last.

"Where is your father?" Lois hissed to her son as she heard the front door close. She began taking her anxiety out on a bowl of salad while Jason watched from a safe distance away, the little kids all having gone to play in Haley's room while the grown-ups congregated in the living room. He pulled out a bottle of soda from the cabinet, filling up glasses for his uncles, aunt and grandmothers.

"Do you want me to—you know—check for him?"

Lois turned to look and caught him making a flying motion with his hand. "No; if the news reports are right then I have a pretty good idea where he is and I know he'll be home as soon as he can. I want you to stay right here…it's bad enough that one of us is conspicuously absent I don't need you to disappear too. And if your Uncle Perry or your Nana ask your father's out meeting with a source about a story, ok?"

He flashed her the ok sign with his free hand before blowing on the assorted glasses of soda and bearing the tray of chilled refreshments into the other room.

Haley came barreling in behind him, her sharp ears having caught the sound of her grandmother's voice. "Nana Ella, Nana Ella!" she cried out, running straight into the older woman's embrace and interrupting her conversation with Martha.

"Oh Baby Girl!" They held each other tight a moment, with Jim, Chloe, Perry and Martha looking on with wide smiles on their faces before she held the child out at arm's length for inspection. Ella scrutinized her cheery, healthy image very closely—the smooth skin, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes and ruddy cheeks that the young enjoyed. "Haley, Honey, you make me feel so old."

The little girl thought about that a moment before putting a hand on her hip and cocking it out to the side—Perry chuckled in recognition at the gesture—and replied, "But Nana, I'm the one having the birthday, not you!" The group shared a good laugh just as Lois re-joined them bearing appetizers.

"Kids, food!"

A stampeding herd of elephants was heard rushing down the hall and Jim leaned over from his perch on the edge of the armchair to watch his children enter the room. He winked at his wife and whispered, "I just flashed back to life in Connecticut with my family—and we weren't even half as rowdy!"

She rapped his arm lightly and smiled. "Jimmy…!"

"I'm sorry this is taking so long," Lois announced as everyone chowed down on cheese and crackers. "Clark should be home soon." Half the room missed the surreptitious glances shot in Lois' direction from the other guests; they all knew promises like that couldn't be made in Clark's case no matter how well intentioned.

"Lois, I hate to be the one to say this, especially because I know how hypocritical it is, but your husband works too hard." She glared at Perry as he leaned back in his seat, several crackers piled high on his napkin, but Lois couldn't follow through with her veiled threat; it was true, she and her husband did work hard, it's just that some of their work required longer hours than others…and for his own safety Perry could never know about it. "It's his kid's birthday for crying out loud!" the Editor-in-Chief continued, unaware of her private thoughts. "Why don't you call him on his cell phone and tell him to give up the gig and come on home."

A smart retort was on her lips as she reached out for an hors d'oeuvre then stopped and leapt up suddenly from her seat. "Oh _SH…_" She looked down in time to catch Abby, Tommy, Chris and Haley sitting side-by-side on the floor staring up at her with wide, frightened eyes. "_SHOOT!_" She beckoned for Jason to follow then dashed out of the room.

"Lois, Honey, is everything alright? Do you need any help?" Martha called out, sensing trouble.

"No, everything's fine!"

* * *

No sooner had his mother closed the bedroom door behind him then she whispered in a frightened voice, "I forgot about the cake!"

"_HOW COULD YOU FORGET THE_ _CA_—?" he cried back before she clamped a hand over his mouth.

"SHHH! I don't want your sister to hear you! And it wasn't me that forgot! Your father was supposed to pick it up on his way home from work but then he got called away."

"Oh."

"Right, see? Not my fault." She stepped away and turned her back on him with her hands on hips as she mulled over how to get them out of this predicament.

Jason rounded his shoulders, making his hair flop forward on his face. "I could go pick it up if you want—I mean, since we're not sure Dad'll make it and all."

His mother spun on her heel. "Are you sure? You don't mind? I'd go, except…"

"Except we've got all these people here and you can't just up and leave them in the middle of a party, not to mention I'm faster at getting around on foot then you," he finished, winking mischievously as he spoke.

"Wise acre." Lois grinned as she made for her purse and thrust several folded bills into his hand. "Here, this should cover it. The cake is at Devlin's Bakery over on Murdoch Avenue…and don't forget to pick up some candles!" She checked her watch. "If you hurry you should make it there before it closes."

He tucked the money into his pocket. "Oh ye of little faith," he murmured, watching her smile as he made for the door.

* * *

**6:47 pm. **"Where the devil is he?" Perry shouted from his seat at the dining room table. "He's almost an hour late!" Little Tommy Olsen, who was sitting next to him, nodded his head in agreement as he eyed the delicious pasta dinner being laid out before him. Lois opened her mouth to reply when the sound of the key in the front door caught everyone's attention. "KENT!" the Chief bellowed, not waiting for the man to round the corner and show himself. "Do you know how rude it is to make us wait over forty-five minutes for you? I think your mother will agree with me when I say..." He stopped mid-speech as Jason filled up the doorway with a large, white, pastry box in his hands.

"Uh, sorry, wrong Kent."

"Oh, well...you're excused then," the old man replied gruffly.

Lois sighed and took her seat between her mother and mother-in-law. "Why don't we just go ahead and eat? I'm sure Clark won't mind..."

"Sorry I'm late!" the man in question called out as the front door opened and closed again. Haley rushed up from the table moved into view and stood just behind his son. Perry noted that he still had on his suit and trench coat from earlier in the day; only a select few sniffed the air and noticed Clark smelled faintly of gasoline. He scooped up his little girl easily, wished her a happy birthday and gave her a sound kiss on the cheek before placing her back on the ground so she could re-join the party. "Thanks for waiting, everybody, but you didn't have to do that! Go ahead, get started, I'll just run down the hall to wash up..." He followed Jason out of the room.

* * *

"Where were you?" he asked his father quietly as they made a detour into the kitchen.

"A gas tanker explosion in Guam; I kept putting it out but it just kept re-igniting...I couldn't leave until I was sure it was extinguished."

His son nodded in understanding. "Well while you're back there you might want to splash on some cologne or something before the little kids start wondering a little too loudly why 'Uncle Clark' smells funny."

Clark tugged at the collar of his shirt, sniffing his clothes. "What? Oh right, the gasoline."

"Exactly."

"Got it, will do." He prepared to leave the kitchen and continue on his way down to the bathroom when he turned back to Jason with a face full of alarm.

"What is it, Guam again?" the teenager asked, "Because Mom'll kill you if..."

"I forgot to pick up the cake!" His eyes went wide at this latest blunder on his daughter's special day. Jason smirked; he still held the box fast in his hands.

"Dad."

"I can't believe it and now the bakery's closed! Your mother is going to have my hide…"

"_Dad_."

"Maybe I can just whip one up—do you think anyone will notice if…"

"_**Dad**_!"

"What?" The teenager looked down at the box in front of him and then back at his father. "Your mother sent you out to pick it up knowing I'd be late." Jason nodded mutely, an impish grin spreading from cheek to cheek. Clark drew his son in for a hug while carefully avoiding crushing the dessert. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

**7:35 pm. **Clark emerged from the kitchen with the bright pink sheet cake with eleven candles lit in a ring around the center while his wife stood singing behind him with a gallon of ice cream, a knife and a large scoop in hands. "Happy Birthday dear _HALEY_, Happy Birthday to you!"

The little girl glanced up nervously at her father before taking a deep breath in and blowing out the candles—_without_ sending the dessert careening across the table and into her Nana's lap. Lois gave her daughter a proud squeeze of the shoulder as she reached over to cut the slices.

Chris sat next to the birthday girl tugging on her sleeve. "What'd you wish for, Haley?" he asked as she looked down at him.

"Can't tell you because then I might not get it."

His brown eyes watered ever so slightly and he pleaded with her. "_Please?_ I can keep a secret, honest!"

"Uh uh, no he can't, he told Abby last week where I kept my Superman action figures hidden! Don't trust him!" Tommy retorted from further on down the table, fork gripped tightly in hand. Jim had to cover his mouth with his napkin to hide the smirk at the mention of the action figures; they were part of a 'Superman' themed birthday present last year from Aunt Lois and one that always made Uncle Clark's cheeks flush red in embarrassment. Tommy had been so thrilled with his gift that he was oblivious to the rolling of eyes and snorts of laughter that emanated from the adults as the paper was torn off, an image which still made Jim crack up four and a half months later.

Haley turned her attention back to Chris as the little boy showed signs of having a meltdown. "It's n-not my fault!" he cried out indignantly before the sob overtook him. "A-A-Abby made me tell! She twisted my arm!" Chloe, who had been trying to soothe her youngest before he had a fit in the middle of the party, turned sharply to her daughter.

"Abigail Sophie, tell me you did not twist your little brother's arm! How many times have we talked to you about that?"

Jim looked down at his daughter as she stared guiltily at the tablecloth. "We're going to have to have another talk about this when we get home, young lady."

"Yes Dad," she replied meekly without meeting his eye.

Haley—_always the peacemaker, just like her father,_ her mother observed—bent over to Chris and cupped a hand next to his ear. "Really?" he asked in astonishment as he pulled back to look in her eyes. She grinned and nodded as her mother placed a slice of cake on the plate in front of the pair. "Wow!"

"Now don't tell anybody," she added, shaking a finger before tucking into her dessert.

"I won't!"

Clark sidled up behind Lois placing a hand on the small of her back. "Now who here wants ice cream?" Four small children's hands shot up in the air all at once.

* * *

"Hold on a second there, Clark," Jim said before his friend could move away. "Jason, push in a little closer next to your sister." He pulled a small digital camera from his pocket and trained it on the foursome.

Chloe rolled her eyes at him. "You never leave home without that thing, do you?"

"Nope, never. Now Lois, Clark, if you want to just shift over and stand behind the kids…on the count of three say cheese everybody! One, two, three…"

"CHEESE!"

He peered at the frozen image through the viewfinder; the picture was uniquely Kent and he resolved to print it up and give his friends copies as soon as possible.

Haley's frilly, pink and purple party hat sat perched at an angle on her head, a bit of chocolate cake and pink frosting smeared on the sides of her mouth as she hammed it up for the camera. Jason sat beside her, laughing wildly at the face his sister made, his blue eyes twinkling behind his frames as he tried to keep it together long enough for the flash to go off. Lois stood behind her son, the serving knife hanging limply in her hands while she eyed her husband, the corners of her mouth upturned in a way that suggested she was sharing in a secret even Jim wasn't privy too…but it was Clark's face that made the picture absolutely priceless.

The man's grin stretched from ear to ear as he laid an easy hand on his daughter's shoulder; he'd tried to look into the camera, but he couldn't break his gaze away from his family long enough to succeed. Jim was always happy to see his friends still so in love with each other but especially when he considered everything it'd taken Clark just to get here today; it was as if the man woke up every day surprised to find himself surrounded by a family of his own—and Jim knew that was how Clark saw it because he often felt the same way. The man positively doted on Lois and the kids, everybody knew that, but those that knew why…well it never ceased to amaze Jim no matter how long he knew his friend.

"Did it come out ok?" Lois asked, punctuating his thoughts. "I don't have red eye, do I?"

Jim laughed. "No, no red eye, that's all a thing of the past now, Lo."

"Oh right."

"You know," Perry began, addressing Martha and Ella and waving his cake-laden fork as he spoke, "It always amazes me what these young people can do with all that new technology out there…"

* * *

**9:23 pm. **Jason walked by his sister's closed bedroom door, pausing and standing before it with a small wrapped gift in his hand. He knocked, quietly at first, not wanting to wake her in case she'd already fallen asleep after such an eventful evening.

"Yeah?"

"Hales, it's me," he called out through the wood. "May I come in?"

"Uh huh." He quickly slipped through, closing the door behind him; she sat propped up in bed with her lamp on, reading from one of the new Bella Ballerina books her Grandma had given her that evening.

The teenager rubbed the back of his head nervously. "I, uh…here." He thrust the small present toward her. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you!" Haley squealed in delight at the present as he sat down beside her. Once her brother was settled she began pulling the fine purple ribbon off and tearing at the gold colored paper until at last a small velvet jewelry box. "Ohhh," she said, rubbing the cover and mistaking it for her present, "It's so soft…"

"No, you little goose!" he cried out hysterically, "You have to _open_ the box! The gift is inside!"

Her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. "I knew that." She carefully pried open the lid, revealing a small, thin, gold chain with a delicate ballet slipper pendant attached.

"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!" Haley screamed, jumping out of bed and wrapping her arms around her brother's neck. "MOOOOOOOOM! DAAAAAAAAD!"

The boy was glad she liked it but the hug was beginning to turn more into a stranglehold. "Hales," —cough— "Can't…breathe…"

"What?" her parents cried as they burst into the room; Lois still held a clean plate in her hand while Clark had a dish towel flung over his shoulder.

"LOOKIT WHAT JASON GOT ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY!" She let go of her brother and held the jewelry box up for their inspection.

"That's _very_ nice! Did you remember to thank him for such a thoughtful gift?" Clark asked, eyes darting back and forth between his two children. The little girl nodded her head vigorously while Jason was busy rubbing feeling back into his nearly-crushed windpipe.

"It's very pretty," Lois complimented, smiling impishly as she looked at her thoughtful son; up until a week ago she knew her teenager had been at an utter loss on what to get a ten year old girl, but with a little gentle prodding from her he'd managed to pull through. "Now it's also very delicate so you better make sure and put it someplace safe so you don't break it or lose it."

"But I want to wear it!" the little girl whined.

Lois shot her a look and Haley instantly stopped. "You may wear it but only on special occasions, ok?"

The girl knelt on top of the bed, studying the precious necklace in her hands. "Uh huh," she replied solemnly. Lois strode into the room and tilted her daughter's face up, leaning over and giving her a kiss. "Good night my ten year old."

"Good night, Cookie," her father called out from the doorway, blowing her an air kiss.

"Good night!"

As soon as the door was closed again she jumped off the bed and dashed to her dresser, setting the box in a place of honor in the center of the toys and trinkets she'd collected there, then ran back to her brother again. "Thanks, Jace."

"You're welcome," he repeated, hugging her tiny body close to his chest. "Happy Birthday." He got up and re-tucked her back in, making sure to set her book aside with the page marked before turning off the light. "Sleep tight."

His mother was waiting for him down the hall. "That was a very nice present, Jason. She may not always want to be a ballerina but she'll never forget that gift or who gave it to her."

He blushed under his mother's gaze and looked down at the hardwood floor. "Yeah, well, it just seemed like something she'd like, you know? Girls always like jewelry…" Before he could continue his mother reached up on tiptoe to give him a hug.

"Thank you for all your help tonight too—I'm very proud of you and I don't think I say it nearly enough."

Jason relaxed into her embrace and hugged her back. "Thanks, Mom." Mother and son stood in the hallway a moment, the sound of running water from the kitchen sink the only noise punctuating the otherwise silent house. "I think I'll, um, go read in my room for awhile," he announced, letting go and turning toward his room.

* * *

Lois returned to the kitchen and walked up to her husband's backside, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him. "They're growing up so fast," she remarked wistfully. "We got lucky with those two, you know that?"

He stopped and turned around to face her, holding her close. "I know—I lucked out with all three of you," Clark murmured as he buried his face in her hair. A proud smile swept across her face until he added, "I could've ended up with a _really_ rotten wife and kids instead."

"Ugh! You're as bad as Jason!" She grabbed the towel off his shoulder and swatted him with it. Before a second blow could join the first he grabbed the dish rag in mid-air, twisting it around his hand and pulling her in for a deep, sensuous kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_**Metropolis, **_**March 30, 2019, 5:03 pm. **Clark sped in through the window of the apartment and landed loudly on the hardwood floor, his concern for his neighbors below non-existent. "_**JASON SAMUEL KENT, YOU GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!**_"

The sound of her husband's rough landing and angry cry sent Lois rushing out of Haley's bedroom looking equally upset.

"**Where is he**?" Clark asked with barely controlled rage. His voice had slipped into it's deeper register and his eyes narrowed into hard little slits.

"That's what I'd like to know!" she bellowed back. "Did you know that he left Haley _by herself_ in the apartment this afternoon for _FOUR HOURS?_ She just turned ten, she's too young to be left here alone for more than ten minutes and he KNOWS that! I came home and found her hiding on the floor of _our_ bedroom closet, THAT'Show scared she was! When I asked her why she didn't call one of us she said Jason told her not to say anything about his little disappearing act and that he said he wasn't even going to be gone that long." Lois stood before him, arms rigid against her sides. "What the _**HELL**_ was he thinking?"

"Oh I know exactly what he was thinking; he was thinking he'd have himself a nice little 'joyride'—in Spain."

Her brown eyes went wide with the revelation and her voice dropped. "He flew to _Spain_?" she spluttered. "Oh I am going to wring his invulnerable little neck!"

"Why do you think I'm so angry?" Clark cried out, breaking from his stance and flinging his arms wildly about as he paced the floor of the living room. "And who knows how long he's been doing it, too! Lois, I'm so mad I could spit!" He slunk into the armchair and clutched his forehead as if feeling a headache coming on.

She moved over and lightly touched his forearm as she sat herself down on the edge of the sofa. "What time did you see him in Spain?"

"Around 1:30, I think. I left the kids here eating lunch because I had to run off to Africa; after that there was a minor mishap in Castille…"

"What happened?"

"A little boy decided to 'practice' for the running of the bulls; he let his family one out of it's pen and it had him cornered."

Her hand flew up to her mouth in horror. "Oh God, was he hurt?"

"No, he's fine, but he was shaking like a leaf. I tried to calm him down like I used to do with our kids when they were little by playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. We were going up for about the fourth or fifth time and the boy was just starting to relax when I spotted something in the air to the south. It was all black and skimming over the clouds traveling incredibly fast…only when it did a little over-under loop did I realize it was _our son_ and not a military aircraft. I wanted to go after him but then I heard cries coming from China and…"

"One thing led to another and you just got home now. Well I was out on the street all afternoon chasing leads for the Stedman story and only got home half an hour ago; that's when _I _discovered he was missing. According to our daughter he waited around a bit after lunch then said he was going out to run a quick 'secret' errand. He must've assumed that one of us would be back sooner than we actually were."

"Well he's going to learn soon enough never to assume any such thing again," Clark announced resolutely. "As soon as he gets home we're clipping his wings." He thought about that a moment before adding, "Metaphorically speaking, of course. He's grounded until graduation and there's no _way_ he's getting around it. Matter of fact I'm going to wait right here until he _does_ come home just to make sure he gets the message loud and clear—he can't pull another stunt like this with us, that's for sure."

His wife nodded in agreement, her lips set in a thin, tight line. "I agree but right now you need to look in on Haley first. I just put her down for a nap…she's pretty shook up and her nerves are shot. You know what an active imagination she has."

Clark grimaced at the news and rose up from his seat. "I know. Don't worry, I'll look in on her."

* * *

_**Five hours earlier**_**. **"Dad, will you cut the crust off? _Please_?"

Haley waited patiently on the other side of the snack bar as she watched her father slice through a freshly-made peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"No I won't. You're ten now and you have to learn to start eating your crust just like everybody else."

Jason sped in and grabbed his plate, then took a seat beside his sister, the paper napkins fluttering off the bar. "Thanks," he mumbled mid- bite.

"You're welcome. See now, Jason eats his crust no problem and he's been eating it that way since he was younger than you."

"Yeah," the teenager agreed with a mouthful of peanut butter. "I used to not be able to eat this stuff 'cause I was allergic to wheat and I had to eat bread that tasted like stale crackers."

The little girl made a face and accepted the plate that her father slid toward her. "Blech."

Her brother nodded his head. "Blech indeed, so I'd eat the crust if I were you."

Clark turned his attention to his son as he leaned against the counter, munching on a sandwich of his own. "So what're you up to tod—…?" The question hung in the air and both children watched their father turn his head toward the window. "Sorry kids, love you both, gotta go, bye!" The words came tumbling out in one breath and he all but bolted for the living room window, shedding his clothes along the way before taking to the skies in his regal blue suit.

"And he's off!" Jason looked down at his sister standing beside him. "I wonder where he's going this time?"

Haley shrugged her shoulders, her sandwich held fast in her two hands. "Not here," she replied matter of factly.

"Oh yeah? How do you know that?"

"I can't hear nothin'." She tugged on her ear, a mini-Carol Burnett, for emphasis.

"Anything, you goof, you can't hear anything." He paused, filtering through the sounds of the City as his sister continued to chow down. "You're right, I can't hear anything nearby either."

* * *

_**One hour later**_**.** He'd cleaned up after lunch and lounged around on the sofa, attempting to make sense out of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury for his English class. It was confusing the heck out of him and sending him into a bit of a drowse.

A quick glance at his wristwatch showed it was a little after one and Jason sat up firmly closing the book and decided he needed some fresh air. _Why not head out now? Mom or Dad should be home soon so I don't need to worry about Haley…besides, you never know, I might get back before they even notice I'm gone._ He got up to grab his backpack before making his way down the hall. "Hales?"

"Yeah?" she asked, eying her brother as he stood in her open doorway.

"I need to run out on a quick errand." He thought about that a second before adding, "A quick _secret_ errand."

Her eyes went wide. "Mom and Dad said secrets aren't nice…"

"I know but this is the good kind of secret—just trust me, ok? And if Mom or Dad come back before I get home and ask where I am tell them I _just_ stepped out, even if I didn't, ok? You got that?" She anxiously chewed on her lower lip, the moral dilemma obviously warring within her, before nodding in agreement.

"Thanks. And don't let anyone into the apartment unless it's Mom, Dad, Nana or Grandma."

"I won't."

He circled the globe at a leisurely pace, enjoying the increased strength he'd gained thanks to his previous training sessions. He waited until he saw America's east coast rise up once more on the horizon before pulling himself vertical and heading up into space.

The silence always overwhelmed him first; more then anything else the eerie and absolute quiet of space always made him pause. Even on those rare occasions when he touched down on the moon he expected to hear the crunch of gravel beneath his feet but it never happened and he knew it never would.

The quiet of the black always was so unnerving.

* * *

_**One hour after that**_**. **Haley had moved her play to the living room once she had free reign of the apartment, but after fifteen minutes alone her imagination began to get the better of her. The sound of Mrs. Day's blender running in the kitchen three floors below made Haley jump and every noise thereafter served to further her terror at the imagined threats until she went running for cover in her parents' bedroom.

She barricaded the door with her tiny body, but the little girl couldn't turn off her vivid and colorful mind, nor could she stop her ears and block out the sounds of the world. Her parents had always warned her about the bad men and women who might try dangerous things if they ever learned the truth about who her father was and right then and there they were trying to break into her apartment and steal her away. Not wanting to break her promise to her brother Haley turned to her parents' closet for protection, closing the door and clutching a discarded briefcase tight against her chest as she waited for her mom and dad to rescue her.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**March 30, 2019, 4:30 pm. **Lois turned the key in the front lock and stepped inside, shaking herself off like a wet dog. "I'm home!"

The silence in the apartment alerted her that something was terribly wrong.

"Clark?" She deposited her coat and umbrella by the front door and moved further into the living room to find her family. Two of Haley's dolls lay idle on the coffee table but the room was otherwise tidy; there was no note stuck to the TV or propped up on the bookshelf point to where they might have gone. Lois passed into the dining room next to see what she could find and the entire time her anxiety level was rising. "Jason? Haley? I'm home!"

The oak table was clear of everything save the fruit bowl in the center and somebody's half-empty water glass. Picking it up she strode into the kitchen and deposited it in the sink, her eyes roving over every surface. There was no sign of forced entry, no sign of a struggle, no sign of anything amiss in anyway…so why did she feel so uneasy? "Where is everybody?" Still no answer.

_Oh God, something's happened…_ "CLARK! JASON! HALEY! Answer me right now, you hear me? Answer me right _NOW_!" Lois picked up her pace, heels clacking on the hardwood floor as she rushed down the hall to check the bedrooms. The bathroom door was open, as were the doors to her son's and daughter's bedrooms; the only one that was closed was her own.

Lois took a deep breath to steady herself as she placed her hand on the knob, turning it slowly. "Hello?" the distraught woman called out quietly. She hated that her mind always went to the dark places first. "Please, somebody answer me…" She deposited her purse on the mattress and was about to reach for the bedside phone to call Al when a tiny voice from the closet called out to her.

"Mommy?"

She flung the folding doors wide open to reveal her daughter sitting on the ground, clutching one of Clark's old brown briefcases against her chest and rocking back and forth. Haley's eyes were wide with fear and there were multiple trails of tears that stained her inflamed cheeks. "Baby Girl, what's the matter? Where's your brother?"

Nothing but unintelligible babble and more tears came forth as Lois sunk to the ground, holding her frightened little girl close and soothing her daughter's fears as well as her own as best she could.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**March 30, 2019, 11:16 pm.** "He's still not home?"

Clark turned in the direction of her voice as she made her way down the hall from their bedroom. He sat in the same armchair as before and closed the book in his hands, his feet extending off the leg rest and resting comfortably on a nearby ottoman.

"No," he replied dryly.

"How's the saying go again? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?"

"Oh yeah. Now he's not only getting punished for abandoning his sister, telling her to lie to us and for unauthorized flying but also for breaking curfew without calling. At this rate he'll be grounded until the Fourth of July." Clark stared out the window as a light rain fell against the pane. "He's just racking them up tonight."

She rubbed her biceps and nodded. "Yes, but Clark, I'm really starting to get worried here. It's not like him to be _this_ irresponsible."

"He's just having an adolescent moment, that's all." He brought his hand up and placed it gently on the small of her back and held it there, and she tingled from the warmth his body exuded. "He probably heard us earlier and decided to crash at Rick or Sean's place for a bit until things cooled down thinking he'd get off with a lighter punishment—which you _aren't_, just in case you're listening, Jason."

"I hope you're right…" Lois answered, unconvinced.

He smiled. "I know I am. Now why don't you go get some rest and I'll come join you as soon as he gets home, ok? He can't stay gone all night and there's no point in both of us losing sleep."

"Alright." She yawned as if to prove his point. "But I want to know the minute he gets home, ok?"

"And you shall. Sleep tight." Clark leaned up expectantly for a kiss before returning to the book in his hands.

* * *

**A/N:** And now the fun (and some of the parts I'm having the most trouble writing, ironically) begins. Plese don't forget to leave a review if you have the time/inclination!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **If you get a second you might want to check out the note in my profile regarding the future of this story. All I can say is I'm sorry and I'm trying.

**Chapter 10**

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 1, 3:18 am.** He shifted in his seat while a little line of drool went dribbling down the side of his chin. The open book on his lap fell and it's weighty thud as it hit the floor roused him sharply from his slumber. Clark peered up blearily at the lamp beside him; he couldn't remember falling asleep and for a moment forgot where he was. Once he realized he was sitting fully dressed in the living room he took a quick look at the cable box clock and discovered it was almost 3:30 in the morning.

_He must have snuck in while I dozed,_ and Clark frowned at the thought. He rose up out of the chair and stretched, then hovered over the floor and proceeded down the hall to check on his son. There was no reason why he should have to wake the whole house up traipsing down the hallway at this hour; Jason's punishment would keep 'til later in the morning. Still, something worried him.

Clark stopped just in front of Jason's door and noticed it wasn't fully closed, which was unusual for both the kids; Jason and Haley liked to create as much of a buffer between their rooms and the world so as to muffle their super-hearing. _Maybe he just didn't want me to hear the lock turn…_

Nudging the door open he floated in and surveyed the scene. Everything was as it had been several hours earlier—including Jason's very empty bed.

Their son hadn't come home at all.

An ominous chill crept down Clark's spine as he no longer believed his son was spending the night with friends. Turning his head to the side he began listening intently to the sounds wafting up from the main street, then he pushed his hearing out further to encompass the surrounding blocks; however, the familiar cadence of Jason's heartbeat was nowhere to be heard. His son wasn't in the neighborhood and Clark took a deep breath to keep his fear at bay.

The decision not to tell Lois was made before he even crossed the threshold out of his son's room; Clark simply made up his mind to set out, find Jason wherever he was hiding, and bring him home before his wife was any wiser…it would save everyone a lot of needless worry and stress. With alarming speed he took off down the hallway, out the living room window and began soaring up to the heavens pondering why his normally mature and rational teenage son suddenly decided to start acting his age.

He gave himself a full ten minutes hovering over the center of Metropolis but it was clear that Jason wasn't within city limits. Now that he was listening for it the silence usually punctuated by Jason's steady rhythm was ominously quiet and her cursed himself for not noticing it sooner.

Clark tried to think of where his son might be hiding. Obviously he'd taken off on a clandestine trip _somewhere, _and it was possible he was still biding his time, it just wasn't at Rick or Sean's homes…but if not there then where? Perhaps he'd flown too far and tuckered himself out—if that was the case then he didn't want to get caught red-handed in Africa or somewhere breaking the rules—so he would've decided to wait for the sun to come up so he could recharge, return home and hopefully slip in unseen.

If that were the case then Jason would be grounded until Labor Day.

But even as he tried to rationalize with himself that all wasn't as it appeared Clark knew deep down inside that this wasn't just a teenage joyride gone awry. As irresponsible as Jason was being it wasn't like him to stay out all night and let his parents worry—he would've pulled a Lois and called in with a bogus cover story just to cover his tracks. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and the knot in Clark's stomach tightened uncontrollably.

East. He'd head east first and see if he couldn't find Jason before the sun did. Europe was as good a place to start as any; they'd traveled the continent extensively as a family and there was a chance his son might have returned to see the old sites.

It wasn't much of a plan but at least it was something.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 1, 2019, 8:30 am. **"I looked for you forever and a day…where have you been? I'm just not myself when you're away…"**

Lois woke to the soft strains of the radio and she reached out to the other side of the bed; the sheets were cold against her skin and a soft but disappointed sigh escaped her lips. It wasn't unusual for her husband to be off and running early in the morning but something about today made Lois wish he were there beside her. There was an electricity to the air, she could sense it, and it made her uneasy without knowing why. She lay on her back for a full minute mulling things over when she discovered the source of her discomfort.

She'd slept soundly all through the night.

Either Clark never woke her up or Jason never came home.

Lois jumped out of bed without a second thought and plodded barefoot down the hall to her son's room. Throwing back the partially opened door she discovered it was empty; however, the bed was hastily made in typical Jason fashion and the sheets looked somewhat rumpled, suggesting they might have been slept in after all. Groggily, Lois tried to recall if it had been like that the previous evening but she just couldn't be sure. Had Jason come home and gone off with his father for a little man-to-man talk about his behavior? If that were the case then the sheets might still be warm…pressing her hand under the covers Lois felt they were just as cold as his father's had been.

"Don't be mad."

The sudden sound of Clark's voice coming from the doorway almost made her jump out of her skin. Right now, and coming from him, that was the worst possible phrase she ever wanted to hear. She turned and took a good long look at him; there was a haunted look in his eye and he seemed to be very on edge. He was also wearing the Suit, another bad omen. Preparing herself for the worst Lois gripped the sides of her son's comforter in her hands. "Ok…"

He strode into the room and crouched down in front of her, gripping her biceps in his hands. "And try not to panic."

That especially made her heart speed up and now she was fully awake. "Tell me."

She watched him drop his head briefly—in shame? guilt? grief? she couldn't be sure—before steeling his resolve and looking her once more in the eyes. "It's about Jason."

So he hadn't come home…Lois cursed the deep sleep she'd slipped into the previous evening when she thought he was safe at a friend's. "Where is he?"

"I don't know and that's the problem. I've been looking for the last five hours but so far I've turned up nothing."

_That_ information made her go rigid. If Jason was missing and her husband—her _superhero_ husband—couldn't find him…_Oh God…_

Lois' breath hitched in her throat as she was plunged into turmoil; she didn't know whether to scream or bolt for the door wearing nothing but her nightgown while scouring the streets for her missing boy. A second more and she realized that it was still relatively early—there was a chance he'd return once the sun was full up and he'd be back in time for breakfast—but deep down she knew that wasn't true and her heart pounded in her ears as the morbid thoughts swirled in her head.

"Call Al; he'll know what to do and we can't afford to waste any more time."

She watched Clark wince at the implied slight before leaving to do her bidding. She hadn't meant it as a rebuff…at least, not consciously.

For a long while Lois sat on the bed taking stock of Jason's room and plotting her next move while her stomach churned. The reality that he was missing was hitting her in waves and she could feel the bile rise up her throat. This was her greatest fear—_their _greatest fear—realized. Somebody found him, or discovered who Clark was, and was trying to strike back by taking their son. She and Clark always knew their kids would be at risk, more so then other children, and they'd thought they'd taken every precaution possible to keep them safe. Looking back now she realized just how naïve they'd been.

But her little boy? The thought made her heart seize. He may have been a young man but to her he'd always be her baby. Until the doctors placed him in her arms she'd never known a love like that could exist and now…

"I'm going to pick-up Al. We'll be back in five minutes," Clark announced as he sped in, a giant red/blue blur. He waved a hand in front of her dazed face looking for some kind of response. "Lo? Did you hear me?"

"GO!"

She pushed all other thoughts out of her mind and rose up from the bed. Lois couldn't dwell on the past now, not when she needed to pour every spare ounce of energy into bringing her son back—and bringing him home safe.

* * *

_**Atlantic Ocean, **_**Day 1, 2019, 2:31 pm. **He was hurtling across the Atlantic for the thirtieth time that day and again he was coming back disheartened and empty-handed. Clark was no stranger to fear but not knowing where his son was or whether he was even alive was absolutely _terrifying_.

He listened in on the conversation back home to see if they'd picked up any new leads so he could continue his aerial search. Jim, Chloe, Martha and Al were all at their posts as of 8 o'clock that morning; his apartment had gone from being a home to being command central and only his niece and nephews were oblivious to the current state of affairs.

"Come on, Clo, tell me you've got something," Lois urged.

The keys immediately stopped clacking. "I'm going as fast as I can but I'm afraid there isn't much here. You were right, he did have a journal and it was pretty well encrypted…he's only made a handful of 'super' references so far and then they're always done in code so they make no sense unless you know what to look for. Other then that there isn't anything in here yet; but trust me, as soon as I have something you'll be the first to know, I promise." Clark could just picture Lois jutting her shoulders back in dogged determination with her lips drawn in a tight, defiant line; it was a gesture that was eerily reminiscent of his late-father-in-law though he wouldn't dare mention the comparison to her. His wife rarely held her tongue and the fact that she was doing so now only added to the severity of the situation.

Al hobbled into the room with Jim not far behind. "Lois, what can you tell us about this stuff we found? Jim thinks that maybe…"

Clark tuned out and re-focused on his flight path. He was amazed at how Lois was keeping it together right now; here he was darting frantically around the globe like a chicken with it's head cut off while she was coolly managing a small fleet of friends in a much more detailed search at home. If she were the one with superpowers and he were left at home he didn't think he'd be able to keep it together half as well.

He imagined Lois was like this twelve years ago too. As the years passed they rarely talked about the trauma anymore but today was another story. There were simply too many unknowns surrounding his son's disappearance for him _not_ to think anything but the worst. With Jason missing and the possibility that he might be suffering the same cruel fate at the hands of a different kind of Luthor…the thought made Clark's blood run cold in his veins.

With an extra burst of fear-fueled energy he surged towards Metropolis once more.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 1, 2019, 11:42 pm.** "Come on people, _**think**_!"

The brave façade she'd worn like a mask all day was rapidly coming undone. Lois was barking out orders, snapping at people for no good reason, expecting everyone to anticipate her thoughts five thoughts ahead…if she didn't know any better she'd say she were channeling her father, only today she had good reason for her short fuse; if they didn't find Jason soon then they'd be forced to call in the police and if they called in the police then that took all control out of her hands and put it in someone else's—someone she didn't know, didn't trust and didn't want sticking their nose in her family's business.

It also meant that the situation was much graver then they'd ever anticipated.

No, she was much more capable of finding Jason then all the cops in Metropolis put together and she knew it.

The room was quiet; nobody dared answer her because they had no answers to give. Over the last fifteen hours the group of them thought they'd left no stone unturned. Jason's room had been invaded, his laptop broken into, his school papers and files searched, but none of that gave any insight into where he might have gone on his alleged 'errand' or why he never returned.

"Well come on! **THINK**!"

Lois got up and spun on her heel so her back was to the room. She needed proof of life or proof of death or proof of _something_ because the not-knowing was gnawing at her soul. She stared out into the dark, cold, living room and wrapped her arms around her to ward off the chill that crept down her spine at the thought of Jason spending yet another night away from the safety of home.

_Fuck! _She screamed at herself. _How can I not know where he is_?

"You know…"

She whipped her head around in Jim's direction. "What?"

"This might be a bit of a long shot…" All eyes were now on him and Lois swiftly crossed the room until she was only a few inches away from his face; her proximity and the wild look in her eye made him audibly gulp. "But do you think maybe he's—it's probably not possible but—could he be up at the Fortress you guys were talking about a few weeks ago? I mean, does he even know where it is?"

"He knows exactly where it is," Clark answered before darting back out the window. The swish of the curtains was the only other thing Lois heard while the rest of the room sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation.

"Oh Lord, I hope he finds him," Martha uttered. She let loose a long-suffering sigh while Chloe readily agreed. Jim kept lamenting the fact that he should have thought of it sooner while Al, who had slowly been pacing up and down the room, stopped and stared intently at the open window just as Lois was doing. The seconds ticked by and she couldn't recall a time in her life when she'd been more tightly wound.

* * *

Clark cursed himself out the entire thirty-second trip; he couldn't believe he'd forgotten to check the Fortress and it was a slap in the face having Jim recall it before he did.

Once upon a time the Fortress had been the center of his whole universe—a monument to all things Kryptonian. Now though, after Luthor's treachery, it had become nothing more then a glorified mausoleum.

It'd been six months since he'd last set foot up there, flying Haley in with Jason keeping pace alongside them, to give the kids an impromptu lesson on Kryptonian society and history. He used to take them up all the time but as they got older it got harder and harder to carve out space in their busy schedules to make the journey.

He immediately winced in regret at that; it was important to Clark that the kids learn about their unique heritage and he should have _made_ the time. Unlike his wife, whose mother's house was filled with mementos of her family's past, he had hardly anything tangible linking him to his Kryptonian origins once the Fortress was dead. There were no scallop-edged photographs of great-grandparents tucked away in old trunks, no toys from his baby-hood on Krypton, no clothing from a bygone era. Clark Kent had those things, sure, but not Kal-el, son of Jor-el and Lara. Aside from his very existence the only remaining evidence he had was his tiny spaceship, the fabric replicated and used in his Suit, and the Fortress—the only outward signs that Krypton ever even existed.

After discovering that the crystals had been taken Clark hadn't wanted to come back here but it was Lois who eventually suggested the trips, especially as the kids became more vocal in their curiosity about Krypton, 'Grandma Lara' and 'Grandpa Jor-el'. She also saw them as an opportunity for Clark to connect one-on-one with Jason and Haley and spend quality time together. It was because of her that Clark came around to thinking of the Fortress just a little bit differently after Luthor's treachery; the building itself may have been without power but it was still something Jason and Haley could touch, see, and feel, and so long as Clark was there to tell the stories and pass on his parents' wisdom he learned that it wasn't quite so dead after all.

As he descended through the ceiling entrance he found the interior to be as cold and lifeless as it had been for the last decade and his heart sank; there were no signs that anyone had been there within the last day and a half let alone the last few months. He proceeded to touch down on the main concourse and wander along the walkway, stopping near the end and holding out his hand tremblingly where the dead console was frozen in time; when nothing happened he squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hand into a fist. Clark cursed anew, this time ruing the day Luthor weaseled his way into his sanctuary, for with Jason gone he needed Jor-el and Lara's help now more then ever.

And standing alone in the frozen north Clark let loose a frustrated, ear-splitting scream.

* * *

It felt longer then five minutes but when her husband returned alone yet again Lois' resolve broke; she was so disappointed she couldn't even meet his eye. Sinking down into the nearest chair she felt the sobs rise up in her throat as Clark addressed the room.

"Al, make the call." The grizzled older man nodded and pulled out his cell phone before hobbling out of the room to find a little more privacy.

The world was going fuzzy around the edges and Lois struggled to bring the rug at her feet into focus lest she pass out. Only then did she realize she'd forgotten how to breathe.

* * *

They were in some serious trouble; he knew that the minute he answered Clark's frantic early morning phone call. He was glad to be of help but he wished more then anything that they didn't need him like this. It was a lot of pressure being asked to help locate a rogue half-Kryptonian…especially when all the preliminary evidence pointed to the fact that he didn't want to be found.

But even Al had his doubts about the boy's disappearing act simply being that of another teenage runaway. Jason was a relatively happy kid with good parents and a good life—then again he also had the raging hormones of any other youngster and was prone to having 'adolescent moments' as much as the next teen; add to that the fact that he had a whole arsenal of Kryptonian abilities at his disposal and it made for one hell of a tricky situation. He didn't want to believe that Jason would just up and walk away but not knowing where he was going when he left was making it more impossible to consider searching for him using conventional means.

And as hardened as Al was to the ways of the world he was still horrified at the thought of what the young man might be going through if he hadn't run away but in fact had been taken right off the street. He'd seen enough in his days on the task force searching for Superman to easily recall what Jason might be up against. He wasn't much of a praying man but more then a few silent words went up to the Man Upstairs that afternoon asking Him to look out for the boy.

Nearly thirty-six hours had passed before Jim suggested they check the Fortress. It was the break in the case he'd been looking for all day but when Clark returned alone Al knew the situation was bleak.

"Al, make the call."

He hesitated only a moment before complying; after all it wasn't everyday he heard Clark Kent—_Superman _, of all people_—_admit defeat.

Al pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and walked out of the room dialing an old colleagues' number from memory. Yes, they were in a _lot_ of trouble…

* * *

** The song is "Where Have You Been?" by Kathy Mattea. YouTube it. It's a real tear jerker.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I am SO sorry! I can't believe I missed a posting deadline! Life has gotten a little crazier as of late but that's still no excuse. The new chapter's kind of on the long side though so hopefully that'll make up for it. Please review (if you get a chance and feel so inclined) and remember I'll send you a sneak peek of Chapter 12 if you do!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 12:26 am. **Surprisingly enough it was the police who suggested a theory they'd all seemed to overlook; that Jason might have been taken as retribution for something his parents had _written about_ rather then for something his parents _were_.

"Is that even possible?" Chloe asked in a whisper once all five adults were left alone again. "Wouldn't he have put up a fight?"

"Yes he would have," Clark answered grimly, "But if whoever took Jason really was targeting us then they'd still be ready for Superman. Everyone knows about my close relationship with Lois; even after all these years there's still a new tabloid cover every other week claiming she and Superman are having an affair, and half of them have guessed at the truth of Jason's paternity. If somebody took our son then you can be damn well sure they're prepared for Superman to swoop in and save him."

"And just having Kryptonite hanging around can weaken him like that? I thought you said you found out the kids had to ingest it before it affected them?" Jim wondered aloud.

"If they jabbed him with some it would be more then enough to take him down."

The group was silent for a long moment thinking their own morbid thoughts. "But Son, why would they do that if they didn't know the truth about you?" Martha asked in an unsteady voice. Her body language made it clear she didn't truly want to hear the answer.

"They wouldn't have to _know_ he was my son to do it; simply having the Kryptonite in him would be enough to keep Superman at bay. I wouldn't be able to get within a hundred feet before feeling the full blast of it emanating from his every pore and he wouldn't be able to stand on his own two feet let alone put up much of a fight."

* * *

Lois flashed back to images of Clark writhing under the hands of Luthor's goons pinning him to the floor as he struggled and howled with rage—and all the while the mad man approached with his green rock and syringe and a cruel smile on his face.

"**NO**!" she screamed startling them all. One of the detectives out in the hall ducked his head back in to see what all the commotion was about as Clark wrapped her up in his arms. Remembering that outsiders were nearby Lois stage-whispered frantically into his chest, "We have to find him, Clark, we have to find him _now_!"

He leaned down until their foreheads touched. "I know."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 12:58 am. **Ella Lane was so furious with her daughter she could spit tacks. Why hadn't she called her sooner? Did she think her own mother would go all weepy and useless with worry the moment she heard the news? Well Ella had news for that girl and that was that she was a hell of a lot more stalwart then Lois gave her credit for.

But _nooo,_ instead she got a 1 am phone call telling her that her only grandson had been missing for the last thirty-six hours…

THIRTY-SIX HOURS!

_Where's her flying hero now?_ Ella wondered angrily. _Wait! I know! He probably found out long before I did and is out looking for Jason right now! _Her teeth ground in her head._**Oh that girl**__!_

When this was all over she and Lois were going to have a long, _long_ talk, but right now she was willing to set all that aside and do her part to find Jason. The other end of the line began to ring.

"Fort Jenkins, Metropolis, Private Routh speaking."

Ella clutched the phone tighter in her hand. "Private, I need to speak with General Alden immediately."

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?" A brief pause followed on the line and when she realized she wasn't being put through she growled, "What part of 'immediately' do you not understand?"

"Ma'am, you're aware that it's 0100, aren't you? The General won't be back in his office until 0900, just before mid-morning maneuvers. If you like I can put you through to his voicemail…"

She stopped him dead in his tracks. "Son, exactly how many midnight phone calls is the General getting these days?"

He stuttered a second before answering, "Not many, Ma'am."

"Exactly. Now listen up because this isn't a social call. The grandson of General Samuel T. Lane has been missing for over thirty-six hours and if General Alden finds out that I did not involve him immediatelyin the search he is going to be _very_ disappointed. Do I make myself clear?"

Ella listened to the young man gulp on the other end of the line. "Yes Ma'am; right away, Ma'am." The line was put on hold and she let loose a sigh. If only Lois had had the wherewithal to call and tell her sooner...

"Hello?"

_Thank goodness. _"Walter, it's Ella Lane. I'm sorry to wake you but I need you to call in the cavalry. I've just been told my grandson's been missing since Saturday afternoon. They've gotten the police involved but I was wondering…"

"Lo-Lo's kid's missing? Hang on a minute, El." She heard him turn away from the receiver and pick up a separate phone. "I'm getting the National Guard on the line."

A small, satisfied smile crossed Ella's lips.

_Lois isn't the only one with friends in high places._

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 2019, 1:04 am. **He wasn't entirely unused to midnight phone calls—in fact when he was a reporter Perry used to make quite a lot of them to his editor—but that didn't mean he liked losing sleep to some zealous young employee with only a half-decent lead. Some things were better left 'til morning when he had at least one cup of coffee in his system.

And then he heard Lois' voice.

"Chief?"

Her question nearly broke into a sob and he instantly sat up in bed. Clearly this wasn't about any old story. "What's wrong?"

There was silence on the other end for half a second before he got his response. "Clark's with the police, they…" _Kent? Police? The man wouldn't hurt a fly, what's he doing with the police?_ He tuned back in to the conversation "…and they're going to look over the files, get some ideas."

"Ideas? Ideas for what? What's Clark gotten himself into, Lois?"

She sighed and repeated, "They're going to look at whatever hate mail has come in for us recently. Jason's vanished and the police are looking into whether or not he was taken because of something we wrote up."

"Oh my God." He paused for a moment to process the information before asking, "How long has he been gone?"

"Almost thirty-six hours."

Perry was family—or at least up until now he'd considered himself to be family. Lois and Clark were like his own children, along with Jim, and he loved Jason and Haley like no other on earth…which was why he was so confused as to why she'd kept news of this magnitude from him for so long. "A day and a half? Jason disappears for a day and a half and you don't even call to tell me? Just what in the hell is going on over there?"

The extended silence on the line gave him a second to cool off and really _listen _to what Lois was—and wasn't—saying. She was rattled and scared and his outburst only made everything that much worse.

He'd also never heard her sound so meek. "We thought he'd be home by now."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 3:37 am. **She ducked out around the corner to the all-night convenience store under the pretense of needing some fresh air, but what Lois really needed was a smoke. Clutching the pack in her hand she raced back to the house and escaped to the roof for a puff and a place to just _think_.

It was dark, cold and quiet up there—much like how she now felt on the inside. Pulling the plastic wrap off with fumbling fingers she reached for a cigarette and the moment it was in her grasp she felt all her old bad habits come flooding back. Pocketing the pack she reached for the lighter and in one swift motion had the cigarette lit between her lips before she was even aware it was all said and done.

Clark would know in an instant that she was smoking again—he probably already heard the lighter—but she needed the release and didn't care how she got it.

It'd been over ten years since her last puff but now she took a deep, long drag and let the nicotine flood her bloodstream. A few more followed in rapid succession, and although she felt a little heady as the tobacco worked it's way through her system she found she was still too jittery and on-edge to get the relief she so desperately craved…but she wouldn't find that until Jason was home again.

Lois stared out at the starry early-morning sky. Just _where_ was her baby? And why had he gone?

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 2019, 6:22 am. **The 'leads' he and the police had gotten—if you could even call them that—were only half-decent and Clark knew they wouldn't pan out to much. The cops might make a few collars in the process but in the end they'd be no closer to finding Jason then he'd been over the last twenty-four hours; the news was discouraging to say the least.

Clark also couldn't help but feel resentful toward the detectives assigned to the case. More then once he caught them griping about how 'teens will be teens' and that Jason 'would return on his own _if_ he wanted to' whenever they thought he was out of earshot. He wasn't supposed to be hearing any of this at all and so rather then react all Clark could do was just stand there and take it, grinding his teeth at their indifference. If they weren't taking his son's case seriously then who would?

He made it back up to the apartment in one piece and was startled to find Lois sitting alone in the dark, waiting for him.

"Did they find anything?" she asked before he could shimmy out of his coat.

"Not really; the police have a few names but they won't come to much, I can guarantee it. Anything here?"

She shook her head. "No. Mom and Perry are both upset that we kept them out of the loop for so long though."

"Well these are extenuating circumstances and if they knew…"

"I know that!" she spat back.

They stood in silence on opposite sides of the room staring at each other forlornly. "So what do we do now?"

Lois began rattling off a list of places. "Did you check Paris?"

"Yes."

"Sao Paolo?"

"Yes."

"Tokyo?"

"Lois, I've checked all of those places and then some and he wasn't in any of them."

"Dammit!" she cursed and swung her fist down upon the armrest. "Just…just DAMMIT!"

He took a step forward to comfort her. "Honey, calm down…"

"Calm down? It's been TWO DAYS, Clark, TWO DAYS that he hasn't spent under our roof and we have no idea where he is! Who knows what's happening to him or if he's hurt or if he's…" she couldn't bring herself to utter the last possibility aloud, "And you want me to calm down? I won't have another minute's peace until he's back right here where he belongs! We have to find him!" Lois bit down hard on her trembling lip.

Clark stepped up and wrapped his arms around her as she fell into his embrace without having any strength to return the gesture. He knew exactly how scared she was because he was just as scared too.

"I know, Lo, and we _will_ find him; I promise you we will."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 10:35 am. **The press conference had been arranged by Perry and the police and was slated to take place just outside the _Daily Planet_ building. It was the only reason why Lois was at work at all otherwise she would have still been home with Al, Chloe and Jim organizing a much broader search for her son.

She took another look at herself in the bathroom mirror and splashed some cold water on her face to keep the nausea at bay. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, but sleep was the farthest thing from her mind. Lois was speaking the truth earlier when she said she wouldn't have another easy minute until Jason was back with them where he belonged; every moment she spent unconscious in slumber was another moment he was getting further and further away.

Stepping out into the hall she found Clark leaning against the opposite wall in his signature ill-fitting suit and glasses, waiting for her. They shared an uncomfortable glance before beginning the long walk through the lobby toward the front doors; neither of them was relishing the press conference to come but they'd do whatever was necessary and then some to get Jason back. Glancing up quickly she saw the journalists and news anchors on the other side of the revolving doors jockeying for position and clamoring for a sound byte.

Shameless, they were all shameless.

The other difficulty in holding this press conference lay in the fact that they both knew how little actual good would come of it. A tip line would be instated, calls would come flooding in, but how many of those leads would suit Jason's case? Worse still, the officers taking the calls didn't know about her son's gifts, so how would they know that a potential sighting in Peru might actually _be _a sighting of Jason in Peru? If it weren't for all the years of practice with the intricate layers of secrecy surrounding her family's lives and her son's case in particular Lois might've been driven mad.

Before she could contemplate the matter further the flashing bulbs of the photographers and screaming cries of the journalists temporarily blinded her and knocked her off guard. How many times had she stood on the other side of the platform jockeying for a prime spot and shouting out to other couples in exactly the same position she was in now? And she knew better then most mothers of missing children that the majority of those cases never did see the kids come home again.

The detectives motioned for her and her husband to keep moving and she pushed through it all with Clark right beside her.

"Any reason to believe this is a kidnapping?"

"Have any ransom demands been made?"

"Why did you wait so long to report your son missing?"

"Do you know where your son was headed that afternoon before he disappeared?"

"Was he fleeing from a dysfunctional, unhappy home?"

Jane Cho flashed a mean grin at her rival as she watched Lois' face fall at the _Messenger's_ barb. Lois was shocked speechless for several seconds and only just found her voice (and her right hand clenched in a mean fist) when Clark spoke up.

"Jason was _not_ running away from an unhappy home," he intoned. "Of that much we're certain. There were no problems in the family that he would have needed to run away from; however, he was—is—a happy-go-lucky kid who was looking forward to going to prom, finishing up his senior year of high school and attending college in the fall.

"As for your other questions…we don't know where our son was going that day or what happened while he was out, all we know is what he told his sister and that was that he was going to run some errands. He told her he'd be right back but that obviously never happened. Whether he was kidnapped or…or…" He swallowed hard and wiped his face with his hand to try and steady himself. "Or the victim or foul play we don't know and that's why we're appealing to the public to help us find him."

Clark fished around in his jacket pocket and produced a well-worn senior class photo of their son with his trademark glasses and sly, charming grin. Simply the act of looking at the picture broke Lois' heart when she thought she might never see that smiling face again. She turned her head to hide her tears and that was when Clark reached down to take her hand firmly in his. "Please," he pleaded, "Help us find him."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 11:10 am. **The office door was closed and the blinds were drawn; still, he could feel the eyes of the entire subdued floor bearing down upon them from beyond the glass. Perry and his senior reporter had retreated there after the press conference with Lois returning home with Martha, Chloe, and Jim. According to their friend Henrickson calls were already flooding the phone lines and now all they could do was wait for the police to sort through the tips and see what fruits might be borne of their efforts. Why Clark alone opted to remain at the _Planet_ Perry couldn't say.

"So where do we go from here?"

He rarely asked for direction—as Editor-in-Chief he was, after all, used to running the show—but given the situation Perry was at an utter loss as to how to proceed.

"I want to draft an appeal to the public and put it in tomorrow's _Planet_. Half page would be good but I want to take a full page out near the headlines; Lois and I will pay for whatever space you can give us no matter the cost. I don't give a damn if it's a conflict of interest and if you or the Board have a problem with it then I'll go straight over to the _Messenger_, don't think I won't. I want to spread the word as much as possible."

"Easy there, Kent." Perry steepled his hands before him on the desk and gave Clark a good once over. The man was putting on a pretty good show but it was clear he was hurting just as much as Lois and the Chief was worried for both of them, not to mention the health and safety of his young nephew too.

Never in a million years would Perry have thought Jason could land into a scrape like this—even if he was his mother's son.

"I'll write the article," the Chief continued, "And to hell with the Board. If they don't like it they can take it up with me."

"Perry, I can't put you…"

"You nothing; _I'm _using the full power of the press on this one. Besides, if I can't show a little favoritism toward you and your family now then when can I?"

"Thanks, Chief." Clark got up to leave. "I'm going to re-check the archives, see if there's anything the police might have missed." With a wry frown he added, "Lois and I have racked up a lot of ill-will over the years."

Once he was gone Perry let loose a loud sigh and sank his head in his hands. _Jason, my boy, just what on earth happened to you? _His nephew was a fine young man with a promising future and he didn't want to have to picture a world without Jason in it.

* * *

_**Daily Planet, **_**Metropolis, April 12, 2018. **"Mr. White?"

Perry looked up to see Barbara standing in the open doorway with a large pile of paperwork in her hands. He groaned inwardly before acknowledging her then turned back to the article he was proofing.

She wore a small no-nonsense scowl on her face at his dismissal. "You said you'd set aside some time this afternoon and look at the summer internship candidates—we need to get the letters out by the end of the month. Here's the final group that you and the Board decided on; all you have to do is whittle it down."

"Thanks for reminding me. Just set them down right there and I'll get to them as soon as I can."

"But Mr. White…" One gray eyebrow shot up into his forehead as he glanced at her over his paperwork. "Yes Sir."

And he did get to them just as he promised—two days later. He read through the articles submitted by each of the candidates again, separating the ones he selected for further study into piles by grade. Perry was allowed six college and four high school students for eight weeks during the summer months; applications came from all four corners of the globe vying for the coveted spots. The whole business reminded him of the college admissions process only in the end the kids came away with a heck of a lot of experience and the potential for employment with one of the foremost news publications in the country.

That is _if_ he saw fit to hire them.

Three of the college slots were already filled by previous interns as well as one of the high school ones leaving Perry with six positions still vacant. Several hours later he was still hard at work while the bullpen quieted down and he dug into his take-out steak with renewed vigor. Without looking up from his plate he placed another candidate in the 'Accept' pile. _Three down, three to go_…

Placing the fork down he picked up the next application and immediately noticed a discrepancy between it and the others he'd been reading. First, the applicant hadn't submitted a picture; every other entry Perry had seen that evening had the same wallet-sized photo of a freshly-scrubbed, bright-eyed, smiling young man or woman stapled to the front while this one was conspicuously blank. Second, the entrant was a local student from Jack Larson High School; not that he hadn't received at least 50 entries from that school in particular but the fact that it made it so far through the admissions' process as to reach his desk was pretty astounding.

The address listed was also an impersonal P.O Box giving him no easy way to indulge his curiosity and learn more about the applicant other then from the sheets in his hand.

Taking another look at Jonathan Streete's application he quickly turned the page to review the required writing sample. It was a piece outlining the pros and cons of iPod use as an effective teaching tool in the classroom. The subject itself was rather de rigueur for a high school publication these days but it was still an intelligent piece nonetheless; none of the usual biases in a young person's article were present here and the author sounded extremely mature. Perry read through the article once, twice, then flipped back to check the applicant's date of birth: October 1, 2001. The kid was only 16 years old.

Perry recognized the raw talent immediately and Jonathan Streete's application was instantly placed on the top of the 'Accept' pile to round out the _Planet_'s high school quota.

The Chief thought little more about the summer interns until three weeks later when his nephew came knocking on his door.

"Jason, my boy, come on in!" Perry half-rose up out of his chair and pointed to the empty seat opposite him. "It's been awhile since you've been in the bullpen; your mother says you've been pretty busy at school."

The young man squirmed a little in his chair looking every inch his father—from the glasses, to the stuttering speech, to the endlessly long legs hidden beneath his baggy jeans. "Yeah, I'm um, I'm on t-the student council and we've been trying to get everything squared away for Junior Prom."

"Good for you! It's always good to stay active, never forget that. Now tell me…" he leaned forward conspiratorially and Jason moved in to better hear him, "Is there anyone special you're taking to this dance of yours?" The older man watched in amusement as his nephew's cheeks turned a deep red and he ran a hand through his hair.

"I…that is, she…you see…"

"Don't worry, I think that's answer enough." He grinned and took a sip of his coffee still watching the boy struggle to find the right words for whatever was on his mind.

"Uncle Perry, I don't know how to ask this…"

"Well the best way to ask something is by starting with an actual question," the Editor-in-Chief retorted.

Jason smiled that sly grin of his as he looked his Uncle in the eye and dropped the stutter. "If I asked you for a spot as an intern here at the _Planet_ would you give it to me?"

Perry nearly choked on his drink. When he stopped coughing he smoothed down the front of his tie giving him a chance to further steel his resolve. He loved Jason but playing favorites like that went against everything he'd worked to uphold his entire career. "Son, the thing is I'd be thrilled to give you a chance to intern here but I can't just have you coming in and asking for a spot outright like this. We've already chosen our interns for this summer; it's a very long and involved process and there are only a limited number of spots so they have to be approved of by the Board, then by me, then they go back to the Board for review…not to mention that with your parents being who they are and with your relationship to me being what it is…

"Jason, what I'm trying to tell you is that were I to take you on I'd open myself up to accusations of nepotism and that simply isn't fair to everyone else who applied and was denied a spot. Do you understand?"

The young man nodded. "I thought that'd be the case," he said glumly. He reached down into his backpack to fishing out an envelope and returned smiling, saying, "That's why I applied under an assumed name." He extended the missive with the _Daily Planet_ letterhead over to Perry who eagerly read the stock message.

_Dear Jonathan Streete,_

_Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the Daily Planet's four high school interns for the 2018 year. Below are the terms of your seasonal employment…_

"Jonathan Streete?" the Editor-in-Chief asked, looking up from the paper in shock and staring at the clever boy across from him. "That was you with the iPod article?"

Jason's eyes went wide behind his glasses as he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose. "You remember it? But you must've read hundreds!"

Perry was already ignoring him and looking at the acceptance letter once more. "Do your parents know? Were they the ones who suggested you pull this little stunt?"

"No, they don't have a clue. I wanted to see if I could get by on my own merits first and I knew I needed a pen name if I even had a chance of getting my application near your desk; plus you know how Mom is, if I told her I was applying she'd try and drop you some not so subtle hints to clue you in."

"Hints?" He looked at the letter again until the clue smacked him in the face. "Well I'll be damned, I don't know why I didn't pick up on that the first time! Streete, ha!" he muttered, still gob-smacked by the news.

"People only see what you want them to see, Uncle Perry," Jason added quietly, still smirking from his triumph.

"So why tell me now?"

"Because I knew I couldn't get away with walking through those doors with the rest of the interns next month and _not_ be recognized by the staff here; because I knew you'd come under scrutiny for hiring me and I wanted to give you a chance to talk to the higher-ups and clear yourself so that you weren't accused of favoritism; and because I wanted to see if you _would_ have hired Jason Kent over Jonathan Streete without checking my credentials just because I'm your nephew and son of two of your star reporters."

It was all he could do just to smile and shake his head in disbelief, sliding the letter back over to Jason who folded it up and placed it back in his backpack. "Something tells me you're not planning on telling your folks about this, either…am I right?"

The young man smiled and turned his head away, his cheeks turning red in slight embarrassment. It was enough of an answer for him. He'd let his nephew keep his secret—it would only be for a few weeks more anyway.

* * *

Perry smiled at the memory and the ensuing tumult that erupted on the floor between him and his mother on his first day at work. It wasn't long before he began wondering if the boy's seat with the other interns would remain vacant next summer and a deep frown tugged down hard at the corners of his lips.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 3:41 pm.** Chloe watched through the open shutters of the bar as Lois and Haley cuddled on the sofa deep in discussion. Al was loudly orchestrating the police effort in the dining room which made it difficult for her to hear what the two were saying but she gathered by the serious frowns on their faces that it wasn't anything good.

She clutched her mug of tea and sighed before returning to work on her laptop. To the untrained eye it looked like she was working on another piece for the 'Metropolan', when in reality she was quietly covering the Superman angle of the search for her missing nephew. Every time Chloe thought about the danger Jason might be in her heart seized and more then one silent, salty tear trickled down her cheek. She knew as well as Lois did what might be happening to him right now and if the same thing were ever to happen to Chris or Abby or Tommy…Chloe shuddered violently at the thought and delved straight back to work. If she kept up that thinking she might never let her children leave the apartment ever again.

* * *

"They haven't found him yet?"

Haley bit her lip and tried not to fidget as she waited for an answer. Lois slowly nodded her head in response. This wasn't exactly a conversation she was looking forward to but she didn't want her daughter to grow up the way she had with parents who were always talking over her head. They'd said that they were only trying to protect her but Lois always felt more annoyed and betrayed then 'protected'; besides, there were enough secrets being kept in this house (the biggest of which was currently flying around somewhere in South America) that she didn't want to add another to young Haley's growing list.

There was also the fact that she couldn't hide the severity of the truth from her daughter for long even if she wanted to. When Haley's hearing first kicked in it became difficult to keep almost anything private and so Lois opted to be as open as possible—she only hoped her daughter wouldn't take after her and ask for too many potentially frightening details.

The little girl accepted her mother's wordless answer and looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's bad that Dad hasn't found him yet, isn't it?"

The question sounded almost rhetorical and for a brief second Lois wasn't sure if or how to respond. "What do you think?"

"I think it's _really _bad," she whispered, hugging the sofa pillow tighter to her chest. Even more quietly she added, "Do you think it's a new bad man, like the one who hurt you and Jason on the boat and who used to hurt Daddy?"

Haley, young as she was, had no idea what types of brutality people were _truly_ capable of but she knew of Lex Luthor, and the mere mention of him or a new counterpart sent a shocking jolt of electricity through Lois' body. She'd had enough of megalomaniacs attacking the ones she loved and to think of how Jason might be suffering…she couldn't contain herself any longer and started to lose it, her whole body shaking with great gasping sobs. Haley sat frozen in horror on the sofa as her aunt rushed over; she'd seen many sides of her mother but never this, not the total, panicked abandon she was witnessing now, and the display made it very clear what kind of terrible situation their family was now in.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 7:22 pm. **He'd brushed right past Lois, his mother, Chloe, Jim, Al, and the handful of police and headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door forcefully behind him. Clark plugged the drain and turned the faucet on full to try and drown out the concerned whispers coming from down the hall. He hadn't wanted to come home, not until he had some new news to share, but as always what he wanted and needed didn't matter right now. Carefully avoiding his gaze in the mirror Clark turned the tap off and splashed some water on his face before grabbing the towel and looking off into the pitch black skyline outside his window.

It was yet another sign of another long, anxious evening spent without Jason under their roof.

He sighed again before hanging the hand towel back up and paused with his hand over the doorknob, head still turned to the window. Clark _wanted_ to be out there, he _needed_ to be out there looking for his son, but Lois' small insistent call from the roof reminded him that he had responsibilities to attend to here. She'd said it was for Haley, that after the long trying day they'd all had their daughter needed reassurance from both of them that things would work out ok, but he'd known Lois long enough to know that she needed to hear it from him as well.

Trouble was Clark wasn't so sure he believed everything would be alright…and she was sure to catch his niggling doubt before he even opened his mouth.

He was a doubting Thomas and a coward and a man who couldn't adequately protect his own family which was no kind of man at all, Kryptonian or otherwise.

Just then he glanced over and caught his reflection in the mirror—and he almost didn't recognize the person staring back at him. His face looked longer, leaner, with the color all gone and semi-permanent dark circles seemingly etched under his eyes. His hair was unkempt, his chin full of stubble and was that…yes, he'd forgotten to do up the top button of his shirt and just the barest hint of the Suit glimmered about his collarbone.

If this was what 48 hours without Jason was like then the three of them had no hope of surviving at all should he never return.

* * *

Lois hovered quietly outside the bathroom waiting for him to emerge. She just needed to be near him, it didn't matter if they talked, she just wanted to be close to her husband and borrow a little of his strength so she could make it through the day.

And that's when she heard the sound that made her feel more wretched then she had all afternoon; Clark's half-strangled sob coming from the other side of the door. Suddenly Lois didn't envy him and his special gifts as she had while waiting impotently at home. But here he was, her rock, her partner, her strength, and he was crumbling under the strain of Jason's disappearance every bit as much as she was and he hadn't even let on to her about it.

Her face fell as she listened to him gulp down air and muffle his cries and she impulsively raised a hand to go in and comfort him before deciding against it. He obviously didn't think she was capable of handling his grief as well as her own right now and perhaps he was right; she was only human, after all.

As the revelation sunk in Lois left her post and ambled down the hallway, studiously ignoring the bedroom to her left and opting to lock herself in her own room instead. Her body began to go slack as soon as she crossed the threshold and she crumpled against the back of the door, mentally repeating the same questions she'd been asking herself for the last 2 days. _Where did Jason go? Why did he leave? Was he taken or was he really unhappy? What did __I__ do wrong? What did __I__ miss?_

She felt like she was drowning off-shore a crowded beach and no one was coming to pluck her out of the water.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 2, 7:38 pm.** They all watched as he passed by the kitchen doorway without so much as a good-bye and were only slightly surprised when they heard the front door close soundly shut behind him a few seconds later. Clark had gone and sat with Haley for a few minutes, the two of them talking quietly behind closed doors in her room, before he headed back out to continue the search. So far as the four of them knew he hadn't even said a word to Lois and even Al understood the significance of the oversight.

"Well that's not right," he grumbled once he figured Clark was out of earshot.

Martha breathed deep and clenched at her mug. "No," she replied softly, "It isn't."

Jim frowned as he watched his wife excuse herself to go and check in with the babysitter. This worse then any of them realized, save him. He'd worked alongside Lois and Clark long enough to know that communication was key; even if they didn't speak out loud they could interpret each other's body language and facial expressions to the point where it was almost as if they were reading each other's minds. This group knew this, of course, but not to the extent that he did.

Then again, when you viewed the everyday world through a camera lens you tended to have a different perspective on things then most.

Right now, for instance, he saw how much his friends were hurting (just like they all were) but he also saw that they were getting their signals horribly crossed, thereby making themselves more miserable in the process. Clark and Lois worked best together but their pain and guilt were such that they were driving a deep wedge between them, isolating them from each other when they were at their most vulnerable. Jim wanted to say something and make them aware but he simply didn't know how. Part of him thought that this was how all parents reacted in the face of a missing child (a fact he hoped never to learn of first hand), while another part felt it was still too early to intervene. Jason might be found tomorrow and then all would be forgiven and forgotten, the rift would heal, and they could all continue on their way as they had before.

Chloe came back in and squeezed his shoulder, giving him a tight, sad smile. He prayed that Jason would be found by tomorrow, for all their sakes.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 3, 2:18 am. **The apartment was relatively quiet as he landed gently through the living room window and Clark held his breath. He'd hoped his ears were deceiving him when he picked up two steady heartbeats instead of three and as his feet touched the floor his shoulders sagged in despair and he let loose a sigh.

He envied them their fitful rest, however wretched it was. Not that he wanted to sleep but to be able to break away from this torment for even a few hours…

Clark stopped and steeled himself, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Floating soundlessly toward the dining room he began fishing about in the bottom drawer of the buffet and pulling out handfuls of charts and maps along with odd scraps of paper. He'd spent two days flying blind, darting back and forth between continents and crossing the same paths multiple times; he'd been emotional and it was unforgivable wasting so much time trying to locate his son with his heart and not with his head. He needed to buckle down and figure out where Jason was headed or where he was being held and bring him home, no more excuses.

Unfurling the world map across the dining room table Clark picked up a pen and put an X square in the center of Spain. Jason was last spotted in the vicinity and by creating a network of concentric circles spiraling out from that point he'd be sure to leave no stone unturned in his search.

He stared hard at the X and blinked back the mist clouding his eyes. _Last spotted_…Clark couldn't help himself and cursed anew. It'd been his job to stay at home that day with the kids but _nooo_, duty called and he'd answered, just like he always did. He should've been there with Jason and Haley, he should've kept a closer eye on them and kept them safe, he should've let them know beyond a shadow of a doubt how much he loved and cherished them instead of darting around the globe for the sake of _strangers_.

By all accounts his kids shouldn't even exist but there they were, two living, breathing products of a love so deep it changed not only his life but the face of the world and he realized that the minute Lois informed him Jason was his…

…So when did he start taking his children for granted? Somewhere along the line he'd let it happen and now because of his own indifference he was destined to lose them.

The blessings of a loving family were never meant to be his.

With a heavy heart Clark looked down at the map now steeped in great dark circles. His son had to be in one of them, he just had to be, and it was all simply a matter of finding which one.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 3, 5:42 am. **She awoke with a start and immediately looked at the clock on her nightstand. Lois hadn't even realized she'd slept; she thought she'd just tossed and turned but apparently somewhere in there she'd dozed off for a few hours and that knowledge right there set her off on a sour note. She'd spent four hours in oblivion while Jason was God-knows-where enduring God-knows-what and Lois hated that he still wasn't home and wrapped safe in her arms.

Instinctively she looked over at Clark's side of the bed but already knew what answer she'd find. The sheets were cold and un-rumpled just as before, save for the note he'd left carefully folded on the pillow. Lois propped herself up on her elbows and rubbed the sleep from her eyes squinting hard at the print.

_Nothing new to report; still out searching. ~Clark_

She flounced back down and flung a hand over her eyes. _Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT! _

She let her anger and fear and self-pity wreak havoc until her whole body was tense with still more unspent emotion. Lois was tempted to curl back up under the covers and stay in bed when she caught sight of an old photo tacked up to her vanity mirror.

She couldn't have been more then five, six at the most. The colors were faded and the outlines were fuzzy from her perch but Lois remembered the circumstances surrounding the picture as clearly as if it'd been taken yesterday. She'd come back from playing at her friend's house with a bloody knee; the girl's older brother pushed her down as she was getting ready to head home which was how she wound up sitting at the kitchen table struggling not to cry in front of her father. The General, in all his uniformed glory, was sitting opposite her with her foot in his lap about to place a bandage on her wound.

High praise was hard to come by from the General but that day her father told her she'd been a good little soldier and in-between the pain she remembered feeling pleased; it was also at that time that he reminded Lois that she was nobody's victim, not the older boy's, not circumstance's, not anyone's. Her five year old self may have dearly wanted a hug at that moment instead of a lecture, but forty years on she saw the wisdom in his words and threw the covers back on her bed.

Lois would do what she did best; she'd investigate, starting with Jason's room. Everyone and their mother had been through there over the last few days—literally—yet she couldn't help feeling that they were all still missing something and it was up to her to fish it out. She threw on a pair of slacks and a t-shirt and sneakers before marching down the hall and stopping in front of Jason's door, her resolve wavering an instant more at the posters and nameplate on the front. With a determined nudge she pushed it open and just inside surveying the scene, cataloging what was where it should be, what had been moved and what may or may not be missing. The clues to her son's disappearance had to be in this room, she could feel it, she just had to be strong enough and smart enough to find the answers.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 3, 7:55 am. **Chris tugged on the bottom of his mother's jacket as they waited in the hall in front of their aunt and uncle's apartment.

"Mommy, where'd Jason go again? Is he on vacation?"

"No, Sweetie, he's not on vacation." She reached down and ran her hand over his blondish brown hair but wouldn't look him in the eye. All three of her kids were aware that something was amiss but she and Jim hadn't wanted to scare or upset them anymore then was absolutely necessary but they couldn't hide the truth any longer. The older two now glanced at their brother, their expressions greatly subdued, while Chris continued to study her as he struggled to understand what was going on. "He went out and he hasn't come home yet. Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark are worried because they can't reach him but we're all hopeful that he'll be back _very _soon."

"Oh." He mulled that over a minute. "Did he forget to take his cell phone? 'Cause if he had it then they could call him and tell him to come back!"

"It's a little more complicated then that, Baby."

Jim stepped back as Martha opened the front door. "Oh good, you're here," she breathed in relief. Leaning in close so both adults could hear she added, "Something's wrong."

At that Chloe ushered the kids inside and all three stood near the door with their jackets and backpacks still on, ready and waiting to head to school. They'd come early to collect Haley thinking it might take her mind off things if she got out of the house for a few hours but now Martha was worried about Lois and those plans got put on the back burner.

"I need you three to stay right here, is that understood?" she asked, looking Tommy, Abby and Chris in the eyes. They nodded as she spun on her heel to follow Jim and Martha into the hall. Haley was sitting on the floor opposite her brother's bedroom with her arms pulled tight around her knees, staring at the closed door while the occasional grunt and sounds of moving furniture emanated from across the way.

"They've been like this since I've arrived and Lois has locked the door. I tried to get a hold of Clark but he isn't answering. I don't know what to do."

At the sight of her niece Chloe's mothering instincts took over and she knelt down beside the bewildered girl. "Haley, Honey?" The little girl didn't budge—she barely breathed, let alone acknowledge her aunt. Chloe crept closer and tentatively snaked out a hand. "Honey, it's me." She looked over her shoulder at Jim and stared into his equally distraught face. Clearly the little girl was in shock, but should she risk touching her? They'd already heard tales of Haley's increasing strength and density and were she to react out of instinct if she were startled…

Before Chloe could talk herself out of it she reached out and clasped a hand on her niece's forearm. "Haley, Sweetheart, I need you look at me," she urged. The girl turned a dull and listless gaze on her but still didn't volunteer anything. "Are you hurt anywhere?" She didn't appear to be injured, just dazed, but she had to check and be sure; true to form there wasn't a scrape or a bruise anywhere to be seen.

Jim stepped forward and finally chimed in. "You know what I think you need, Kiddo? I think you need a good hot breakfast, how about that, hmm? Why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can't scrape some chocolate chip pancakes together…" He leaned down and picked her up in his arms. "There now, I got you, everything's going to be just fine…" He jerked his head in the direction of Jason's room and Chloe scrambled to her feet hoping she and Martha could get Lois to let them in.

Martha rapped at the door as Chloe leaned in close, straining to make out what her friend was muttering on the other side.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 3, 8:30 am. **Haley sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed the ballet slipper charm on her necklace. Uncle Jim, Uncle Al, Grandma and Aunt Chloe were standing just outside her door trying to come up with a plan to coax her mother out of Jason's room and talk; and even though they weren't even trying to be quiet around her she still had a hard time concentrating on what was said. This morning's upset left her in shock.

Ever since Jason disappeared she'd been hearing more and more whispers of stories of things that took place before she was born. She knew about Lex Luthor and been told about how he tried to hurt her brother and her parents, but he was long dead and everybody knew it; still, that didn't mean there weren't other like him out there and Haley knew it even if her Mom and Dad and Jason didn't want to talk about it out loud. She was young but she wasn't so young as to think that _everyone_ loved her father when he was Superman and they'd make him pay if they ever learned the truth.

She'd been worrying about all these things in her sleep when a loud scraping sound from across the hall woke her up. Her eyes darted open but she lay still as stone on the bed, focusing her hearing to try and locate the source of the sound. Someone was moving around in Jason's room and the footsteps were so light they couldn't possibly be her brother's. Leaping out of bed she moved in a blur until she found herself in front of Jason's door with her ear against the wood.

"How many times have I told him not to bring food in here? You'd think he'd have heard of a little invention called a trash can…" It was her mom muttering to herself.

Haley tried the door handle but it was locked. "Mom?" On the other side of the door her mother never broke her stride and kept right on moving things around. "Mommy?" she cried out again, louder this time.

The footsteps stopped and Haley pressed more firmly against the door. The break only lasted a few seconds before her mother started shuffling around again and talking to herself. She tried the knob again and thought about breaking it but her brother would be _really_ mad at her when he came home and saw what she'd done...so she did the next logical thing that came to mind. She called her dad.

"Dad!" Haley held her breath and kept watch over the hall, waiting for him to arrive. He'd come in and take care of her mother and everything would be alright; he could fix anything.

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Three Mississippi.

He always told her no matter where he was or what he was doing if she _really _needed him he would come, all she had to do was call and he'd hear. She just had to be patient.

Four Mississippi.

Five Mississippi.

Haley frowned. Maybe he hadn't heard her? She tried again louder then before.

"DAD!"

Six Mississippi.

Seven Mississippi.

Eight Mississippi.

It sounded like she was moving the bed now. "If I could just reach a little further under this here…"

Nine Mississippi.

Ten Mississippi.

"Oh God, this is disgusting!" her mother shrieked. "I've known barnyard animals that were cleaner then this!"

Eleven Mississippi.

The tears sprang up in her eyes. Her brother was gone, her mother was losing her mind and her father wasn't coming home to help.

She was all alone.

"Dad?"

Twelve Mississippi.

Thirteen Mississippi.

Fourteen Mississippi.

Fifteen Mississippi.

After that Haley stopped counting.

She stepped back and sank against the wall clutching her knees to her chest. Haley couldn't stay there and yet she couldn't bring herself to move; she was numb all over from her family's abandonment. Slowly she began to realize that she'd brought this on herself—her parents were freezing her out because she'd covered for Jason when he left and if she hadn't lied then they might've been able to find him before anything bad had a chance to happen.

It was all her fault.

All. Her. Fault.

She didn't know if she'd been like that for minutes or hours but then someone touched her arm and she recognized her Aunt Chloe's voice trying to reach her through the fog. Before long she was picked up by a strong pair of arms and carried off to the kitchen by her uncle where he proceeded to feed her breakfast. She wasn't hungry but Haley managed to shove a few bites of whatever it was in her mouth before being allowed to return to her room to be alone.

"Haley's in shock and Lois isn't coming out. Have either of you been able to get in touch with Clark?"

"No, and I don't think she has either. I found this on his pillow." A piece of paper rustled as it passed hands.

"Well that's just great! HELLO, EARTH TO CLARK, EMERGENCY HERE! CAN YOU PLEASE PICK UP A G-DDAMN CELL PHONE?"

"_CHLOE!_"

"I'm sorry, Martha, but desperate times call for desperate measures and that little girl needs at least _one_ of her parents right now!"

Everyone stayed silent awhile after that. Haley figured they just didn't understand the situation. Uncle Al spoke next.

"Maybe we should let Ella look after her for a little bit like she offered."

"No! She needs to be someplace familiar, get back into some sort of routine…"

Another angry voice cut in. "And you really think staying here is going to help her with that? At least the kid'll have the woman's undivided attention over there instead of all of us running around like headless chickens here…"

_I don't want to leave! When Jason comes home he'll come here, not Nana Ella's! Don't make me go!_

"Ok then, it's decided. Clo, maybe you should help her pack; I'll go get Ella on the line and let her know we're coming."

_NO! _


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 4, 2:25 am. **Lois sat in the middle of the floor in her son's room, surrounded by Jason's school papers as well as her own notes. There wasn't anything concrete, not yet, but judging from what she'd gathered so far Lois knew he'd been up to something…she just couldn't put her finger on what.

She did know that whatever it was had started back in February and it was all because her boy had ink in his blood (and not just for the printed word). The margins of his notebooks had dozens of new sketches starting at that time all teeming with exquisite detail, and judging by the expanse of scenery Lois believed this to be because he started sneaking off for flying. Some of the images were easily identifiable—the Eiffel Tower, the Amazon River, the Seattle Space Needle—but it was the others that left her puzzled. Lush forests, ancient and obscure dwellings, remote lakes and beaches…they could be scenes from practically anywhere in the western world and she had no hope of discovering their locations and help winnow down her list.

There was one image that stuck out, however, and it only appeared once on a half-filled page of his Russian journal. It depicted an oval shaped image that jutted out of a long platform; it looked familiar but Lois couldn't quite place from where. Perhaps it really was just a mindless doodle…until Jason came back and she could ask him she wouldn't know for sure.**}**

In addition to the sketches Lois also discovered that the only clothing missing from Jason's closet were his black winter boots and dark jeans. His school backpack wasn't hanging from the closet door knob but his books were all accounted for, she checked, so he must have left them behind in order to carry along something else…just what that something else was she couldn't say.

Lastly there were the receipts. She found one stuck as a bookmark in his copy of Faulkner and two more crumpled up in the bottom of his trash bin. They were spread out over several weeks and were all for significant amounts at Zimmerman's Sporting Goods located a handful of blocks away. The purchase codes didn't make any sense and Lois resolved to trudge over there as soon as they opened to find out what Jason had been buying, sensing that it would give her her first good, solid lead.

The results weren't much considering the amount of effort she'd been putting in but it was more then she had when she started and for that she was grateful. Still, Lois couldn't help but feel like the pieces of the puzzle were lying right there in front of her and she couldn't make them fit.

She looked over everything again and felt her eyes glaze over with sleep, her head drooping until her neck snapped up. A wave of frustration and exhaustion overwhelmed her but she wasn't willing to give up until she had an answer. "Dammit!"

"Lois?"

* * *

**Metropolis, Day 4, 2:20 am. **He wanted to come back when he had a better handle on his son's whereabouts but Clark felt compelled to check on his wife and daughter and it was a gut instinct he wasn't about to ignore. As he landed in the living room he picked up on the bio-signs therein—Lois he heard moving around down the hall and…

…Al, who was snorting in his sleep on the sofa, oblivious to his friend's presence.

Clark's eyes widened in alarm but his voice caught in his throat. _HALEY! Where's Haley, where's my daughter, what's happened, why wasn't I called, oh God, where's my daughter, where's my daughter, where's my daughter…?_

Almost as if sensing his growing distress the Lieutenant slowly opened his eyes and caught sight of the caped figure standing in the dark. "Clark!" Al yelped, jumping in his seat. "Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to get a hold of you all…"

"Where's my daughter?"

He gulped almost guiltily and then fought back a grimace. "That's what I wanted to tell you. We've been trying to get a hold of you all day. Where were you?"

Clark glowered. "I was looking for Jason, where do you think I was! Now tell me where she is!"

"She's at Ella's."

That was it, that was all the answer he got, and as he stared the older man down he stretched his hearing out searching for his daughter; there she was, just as Al said, tossing fitfully in her sleep at his mother-in-law's. "Well what happened?"

Al took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hand. "Buddy, you might want to sit down for this." He did so hesitantly, his eyes never leaving Al's face. "Now tell me what you hear."

"What? Al, what does that have to do with…"

His friend held up a hand to stop him. "Just tell me what you hear."

Clark shut his mouth and closed his eyes. What was it exactly that Al _wanted_ him to hear? Knowing that he'd get answers the sooner he followed instructions he tuned in to the world around him.

Stray cats in the alleyway; an infomercial on someone's TV; a couple car alarms; Mr. Fratelli snoring; _Lois_…

He could hear her down the hall. She wasn't moving around as much anymore but she was still awake in their room; no, wait, that wasn't right—she was awake in _Jason's_ _room_.

His blue eyes flew open and sought out his friend's. "Yeah," Al started to say. "She had a bit of a breakdown and locked herself in. She won't let any of us in either nor will she talk to us and tell us what's going on. The only times she's left have been to use the bathroom and when we tried to stop and talk to her…well, Jimmy had the makings of a pretty good bruise on his cheek when he left here earlier, believe you me." He waited for Clark to say something but when nothing came he added, "We think she's looking for clues to where Jason might've gone; at least, that's what we gathered from her muttering."

That didn't make any sense. Lois? Breakdown? No, that couldn't be right—she was the strongest person he'd ever known and even if she had had a breakdown he would've heard something in all the commotion, right?

_Right_?

Then again, Clark quickly realized, he had been very focused on scanning the areas of his search grid looking for Jason. And Al said they'd been trying to reach him all day and he honestly hadn't heard a peep…

His numerous trains of thought came crashing back together. "But what does any of this have to do with Haley?"

Again Al sighed and hung his head before meeting his gaze. "You have to remember that when we all left here the other night everything was fine; well, as fine as it could be given the circumstances. We didn't think anything of leaving the two of them alone for a few hours so we could all get some shut eye and re-group in the morning. But by the time your mom and the Olsen's got over here whatever happened happened…" His voice trailed off and he took a moment to steady himself. "Clark, Haley was the only witness and we don't know what she saw."

His eyes bugged out of his head and his heart stopped in his throat. _Oh God, I've failed my family._ If he thought his mind was running overdrive before Clark was now so distraught he could barely keep a single thought in his head. Lois would never…and Haley… "Was she hurt?"

Al shook his head. "Physically there isn't a mark on her but emotionally? Emotionally she's traumatized. The girl's a zombie, literally, and hasn't said a peep to anyone all day. What with Lois acting the way she was and us unable to reach you we decided it was best to send Haley to Ella's. We figured a little one-on-one time with Nana wouldn't hurt, you know?"

* * *

He watched as Clark slowly processed the news and was surprised that he didn't jump up and dart off after Lois or Haley or both. It was a lot to take in and Al almost wished he hadn't insisted he be the one to break it to him; it was hard enough everyone had to deal with Jason's disappearance but now the rest of the Kents were starting to fall apart and the hits just seemed to keep on coming.

Al eyed his friend wearily wondering when the other shoe would drop.

After several deep breaths Clark looked over at him and he noticed that the look of fear was gone. Upon closer inspection Al realized that in an instant his friend had gone from looking just like his friend and more closely resembling the detached, efficient, professional Superman he knew years ago before he really knew who Superman was; and if he were being completely honest with himself Al had to admit that the glint in Clark's eyes scared him absolutely shitless.

"Do you know if Lois has found anything useful in her search?" he asked, his voice almost robotic.

_Oh HELL no!_ He was shutting down, compartmentalizing his emotions and separating himself further just when they all needed to pull together. He wished he had better control of his temper because he would've given him a better answer instead of blurting out, "Jesus, Clark, just what part of 'she's-lost-her-mind, locked-herself-in-and-won't-talk-to-anybody' don't you understand?"

All the air got sucked out of the room at that and now he _knew_ the other shoe was going to drop. He wasn't disappointed.

"I understand."

And then Al was almost knocked over by the gush of wind that rushed past him without warning. He turned to follow Clark's wake and heard him stop mid-way down the hall. Less then a minute after that he left the apartment altogether.

* * *

"Lois?"

She jerked her head toward the door, her husband's gentle voice piercing through the fog. _Yes, Clark, he'll be able to make sense of this, he'll be able to help me…_ As she struggled to her feet Lois listened to him continue to talk out in the hall.

"Lois, I don't want you to worry anymore, ok? I'm going to fix this, I'm going to fix everything…I'm going to get Jason back and then we can all be a family again, you hear me? It's going to be _ok_."

Her hand perched on the knob, Lois smiled a small, genuine, smile for the first time in days. Of course it was going to be ok; now that Clark was back the two of them could work to make sense of everything she'd found out and then they'd find Jason…

…but when she opened the door a great gust of wind blew her hair back and the pictures all down the hall swung in place. She stuck her head out and saw the carpet bunched up at one end. Lois shook her head and almost laughed. Clark always did that to the rug whenever he had to dash out somewhere in a hurry…

And that's when she realized he left without so much as a good-bye.

Her lower lip trembled but she refused to cry. "Clark?" she whispered. He didn't return. She waited until the count of ten but he still didn't appear.

An anger unlike anything she'd ever experienced before welled up within her. Lois, who used to pride herself on never needing anyone, _needed_ Clark now. She trusted him beyond measure and he'd gone and abandoned her to her own fate—_again_.

Why did he even bother coming back and feeding her all that bullshit about fixing everything when he wasn't planning on sticking around and following through?

_Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on you._

Lois slammed the door shut so hard the whole apartment shook.

And why did he need to break _her heart_ in order to get everything else _right_?

* * *

**Metropolis, Day 4, 7:30 am. **"You saw him though? You honest-to-God saw him here, in the apartment?"

Al closed his eyes and chugged down the last of his coffee before holding the cup out for a refill. "Yes, Clo, for the last time; I saw him and I talked to him for all of two minutes and brought him up to speed before he left again. And no, before you ask, he didn't tell me where he was going or where he'd been. I think he talked to Lois for a second before he took off but I couldn't tell you what was said and she sure as hell isn't telling anyone anything either."

That got the blond woman all riled up again. "But what'd he say to you exactly? I mean, did he give any indication that he might be zeroing in on Jason's location? Does he even have a plan? What was his body language like? Sometimes you can tell a lot about what Clark's thinking just by his posture…"

"Honey." Jim stood with his back against the sink, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bag of vegetables held up to his purple cheek. "Al's already told us everything three times, you're not going to learn anything new by listening to him rehash it for a fourth."

Al nodded his thanks then turned his attention over to Martha who was staring deep in thought at the table surface. "You've been awfully quiet over there—got any insight into what your son might be up to or where he might be looking for the kid?"

For a long while he didn't think she'd heard the question and was about to have another confab with Chloe and Jim when she broke from her reverie. "This is…" she said slowly. Martha took a deep breath to try and will herself not to choke on the words. "This is an…_unusual_ situation. It's not like when Clark was…_gone_, we don't even have the benefit of the videos…" They all let her voice trail off knowing full well how hard it was for her to think of Clark's time in Luthor's hands. "But if I had to hazard a guess then I'd say he's out there searching for Jason the only other way he knows how—by process of elimination." Her head darted up and she looked them all in the eye. "He's going to look under every rock and tree on the globe for our boy and he won't stop until he finds him."

"Yes but why not let us help?" Jim cried. It was the closest to hysterical they'd seen him since the crisis emerged. "I mean, I know we can't fly for God's sake but we're not completely useless! We've all helped him out in the past after all, otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here now, so why should this be any different?"

Nobody answered right away until Chloe opened her mouth to speak. Under different circumstances Al would've been amused by the husband and wife's sudden reversal of roles; as it was, he simply felt drained. "Because it's Jason."

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 4, 8:25 am. **"Knock, knock!"

Lois woke up and looked over to see an overly-cheerful Chloe entering the room with a breakfast tray in her hands. As she became more aware she distinctly remembered that she was in Jason's room, that she'd cried herself to sleep there her husband left her, _and_ she'd locked the door after slamming it firmly shut. She glared over at her friend.

"Oh yeah, that…you're not the only one who knows how to pick a lock, you know," Chloe replied. "It just takes me longer, that's all." She set the tray down at the foot of the bed and Lois sat up but made no move to eat; she was too angry and drained so she settled for glaring at a piece of buttered toast instead. "Come on, Lo, talk to me. What's going on? What'd Clark say to you last night?"

If _her _looks could kill her friend would be a crumpled heap on the floor right now. Clark was the one subject she didn't even want to think about right now, let alone talk about, not when there were other more pressing matters. Her eyes darted over to the semi-circle of paperwork arranged on the floor.

_The receipts…Zimmerman's…need to check…_

* * *

With unparalleled speed her mute friend leapt out of the bed and dove at the floor, scooping up a handful of paper scraps.

"I've got to go check this out…" Lois muttered as she lunged for the door.

Chloe tried to follow but was slowed down by the breakfast tray. "Check what out? Lois, check _what out_?"

* * *

She was only vaguely aware of having brushed past someone in the hall and shoving another person aside as she reached for her purse, coat and keys, but it was the body standing in the doorway that gave Lois pause.

"Don't," she warned, tears brimming in her eyes as she stared the 85 year old down.

Martha's face softened at the sight of her slight defeat. "Sweetheart, we only want to help you both find him but you have to tell us what's going on."

She took another step closer now and reached around her mother-in-law for the door knob, the commotion behind her closing in. "This is something _I_ have to do," she whispered in her ear, "for _my_ _son_."

Martha clasped a hand over hers and nodded before stepping out of the way. In the blink of an eye Lois was free of the apartment and running for the stairs, too pumped full of adrenaline to bother waiting for the lift.

* * *

Back in the apartment Martha was ill-prepared to handle all the flak that came her way.

"What're you thinking letter her leave like that? Are you crazy? She's in no state to be running around the city!"

"Owww, dammit! Why am _I _the one she keeps beating up on? That hurt!"

"Well whatever caused her to leave I hope she at least told you where she was going?" Chloe asked, turning a hopeful eye to the front of the room.

All three stared at her patiently waiting for answers. The only sound to break the silence was of Jim rubbing his injured arm and cursing under his breath. Looking Chloe straight in the eye Martha screwed up all the courage she possessed. "No, Lois didn't tell me anything."

She turned to Jim next. "And maybe she keeps hitting you because you keep throwing yourself in her way—or maybe it's because she knows you're the only one who can take it and understand it for what it is and not hold it against her."

Lastly she turned her eye on the Lieutenant. "This is something she has to do, Al. I don't expect any of you to truly understand that but this is something she has to do."

* * *

_**Zimmerman's Sporting Goods, **_**Day 4, 8:58 am. **Leonard stepped out from the back room and walked slowly to the front to lift the security gate up, keeping a weary eye out on the crazy woman pacing his walk. He'd been monitoring her movements for the last fifteen minutes from the security feed, watching her cross and uncross her arms, pace, look at the papers in her hand, stop and impatiently tap her foot against the pavement, and stare at the door as if she could force it open by sheer will. Then again, if he left her out there any longer he thought she just might. When he couldn't take the suspense any longer he strode to the front of the store and barely suppressed a sigh as the key turned in the lock.

"Why do I always have to start with the crazies…" he muttered, turning the 'Open' sign in his hands.

The woman burst in and followed hot on his heels as he walked behind the counter. "Good morning, is there something I can help you with to-…"

"I need you to tell me what this means." Her tone was hostile and the look in her eye indicated she wasn't one to be trifled with.

Hoping to satisfy her curiosity and quickly get her out of the store Leonard took hold of the receipts she thrust at him and looked at the code. "This one here," he said, pointing to a line on the earliest receipt and comparing it with the master book opened up on the counter, "Is for a men's large, black, spandex running shirt. Good for anyone from the avid marathoner to the casual jogger. They're pretty popular with the track and field set around here too. We have a whole rack of them in the back…"

She ignored him and pointed to the next line. "And what does this one mean?"

Leonard scanned the book, flipping the pages with nervous hands as her hazel eyes bored holes in his head. At last he found it. "Aha, that's a refurbished oxygen tank, mainly used for scuba diving." _Scuba diving, hmm…_ He looked down at the later receipts again and recognized the code. "These here indicate the tank was refilled rather frequently. Must've been pretty busy."

The woman frowned and chewed on the inside of her lip and he began to wonder just what she was after. Before he could try and gently urge her out the door again she started to pull something out of her purse and held up a photograph. "Do you remember selling these things to this boy?" she asked anxiously.

_Oh._ His eyes darted from the image to the woman's face and back again before recognition dawned. He'd seen the same picture every night on the news for the last couple of days. That was Jason Kent, which meant that the crazed-looking woman in front of him must be…"OH! Ms. Lane, I am so sorry, I didn't realize it was you…"

She shook the picture in her hands and held up closer. "Have you seen him?"

Leonard shook his head. "No, no I haven't." He watched her shoulders slump forward in defeat. His earlier fear was replaced with empathy for her and her family's current situation. If anything like that ever happened to his little Michelle he didn't know what he'd do.

_Michelle_… "Ms. Lane, if you'll just wait right here, I might know someone who could help." He took off for the back room and hoped she hadn't left for class yet; he wasn't disappointed.

"Oh good, you're still here," he said catching sight of her. Michelle was seated at one of the work tables eating a Pop Tart while reading from her chemistry textbook. "I was afraid you'd gone. Listen, I need you to come up front with me for just a second."

She shot him a warning look. "Dad, I'm trying to cram a little before my midterm here, can't you see?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "It'll only take a second, I promise. It's important."

* * *

"_Fine_."

Michelle huffed as she closed the textbook and followed her dad out to the front of the store. It was bad enough she had to help him out with the store after classes but now he was expecting her to work before classes too. _God_, she thought with a roll of her eyes, _I can't wait to get out of here!_

As she exited the back room Michelle caught sight of an anxious looking woman waiting for them at the register. Her fingers rapidly strummed the countertop in an irritatingly impatient cadence and she could practically feel the unspent energy radiating off of her.

Her dad introduced her. "This is my daughter, Michelle. She helps out at the register sometimes"—_sometimes?_—"and she might remember him."

"Remember who?" The photo was thrust in her face before she could even finish the question. Michelle took the picture in both of her hands and couldn't stop the smile that spread when she recognized who it was. It'd been a few weeks since Jonathan was in last but there's no way she'd forget that smile that easily. He was charming and although she knew he was being a shameless flirt he was easy on the eyes and he actually talked to her as if she were someone that _mattered_ rather then as if she were just another dumb cashier. The few times he'd stopped in since that first meeting had always been the highlights of her week.

A snap went off near her ear. "Michelle? Hello? Earth to Shelly…"

She rolled her eyes. Her father could be _so_ obnoxious sometimes.

Michelle handed the photograph back to the woman. "Yeah, I remember Johnny. Last time I saw him was maybe two, three weeks ago, but why do you want to know? Is he in some kind of trouble?" Her eyes darted from one anxious face to another. "What?"

"Kiddo, don't you watch the news?" her father asked, thoroughly serious.

"Yeah, I do, but I've been locked away in study sessions all week." She jerked a thumb towards the backroom. "Remember? Midterms? Chemistry? Today? Any of this ringing a bells?"

The woman in front of them finally spoke up. "His name isn't Jonathan, it's Jason, Jason Kent, and he's my son. He's been missing for the last four days."

"Jason?" Michelle looked down at the picture on the counter. "Does that mean he isn't a sophomore at Met. U.?"

Jason's mother stroked the photograph tenderly but otherwise displayed no emotion. "No, he isn't. He's a senior at Jack Larson High." _Damn. _She couldn't believe she'd been duped by a _high schooler_, of all people. He was jail bait but he easily looked as if he were in his twenties and the things she'd imagined doing to him…ignorance really was bliss sometimes.

"Michelle?" Jason's mother was speaking to her now, trying to get her attention, and she willed the blush in her cheeks to vanish. "What else did Jason tell you when he came in?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Not much. Said he was born and raised here in the city, just like me…that he lived with his parents and little sister while he went to school…that the Buffalo Chicken pizza at Tony's was better then at Alberto's…that he liked catching the double-feature action flicks at the Orion …"

"Did he say anything about the scuba tank when he bought it? Maybe he told you _why_ he needed them?"

Well that one seemed kind of obvious to her and as Michelle ran a hand through her hair she glanced over at her dad. That was when she remembered; he had talked to her about taking some sort of class or something…

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath recalling the details of their last few conversations. "He said he was learning how to scuba dive at the Y, that he and his buddies were prepping for a summer trip they'd planned." Michelle opened her eyes and found Jason's mother tucking the photo back in her purse. It was blatantly insensitive of her but she had to know the truth and she couldn't keep the dissatisfaction out of her voice.

"Was _anything_ he told me true?"

That stopped his mother dead in her tracks halfway toward the door and she sighed. Michelle suddenly felt so sorry for this woman; granted, everything she thought she knew about Johnny—Jason—was a lie, but her disillusionment was nothing compared to his mother's pain.

"Yes," she replied. "Everything except his name I believe was the truth." And with that she slowly walked out of the store.

* * *

Once she was out of view of the store Lois sank against a brick wall and held her face in her hands trying to will away the hurt. The good news was that now she had some solid new leads to follow—the YMCA, the use of his pseudonym Jonathan Streete, the alleged trip with his buddies—yet she couldn't help but marvel at how much more a perfect stranger knew about her son then she did.

She stood there while the rest of the world rushed by and gave herself to the count of ten to calm down. Once she sufficiently reclaimed her nerves Lois made off for the nearest internet café while simultaneously pulling out her cell phone. She may not have known about any such scuba diving trip Jason may have had planned but perhaps her son's friend's parents did.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Hi all! Just a quick note because I'm changing things up a bit this week. I've decided that since Chapters 14 + 15 are kind of short that I'd post them both at the same time, which means that I won't be posting again until closer to Christmas; it also means that I will not be sharing any sneak peeks (sorry!). There's also quite a bit of swearing in these chapters so consider yourselves warned. If you get a chance please leave a review; these chapters should resolve a few lingering issues while bringing up a whole host of other ones and I'd love to hear your thoughts on how you think things are going. Thanks in advance and have a great weekend all! I'll be back around Monday and will reply to anyone and everyone then!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 5, 9:47 am. **The door opened and closed softly as Jim slipped inside with the plastic bag clutched tight in his fist. "Sorry I'm late, Chief."

Perry looked up at his photographer and waved him over to the opposite seat. Pursing his lips he dropped his pen and steepled his hands on his desk, bracing himself for the conversation. "Have things gotten any better over there?"

"No," Jim replied somberly. The plop of the bag as it dropped between them sounded ominous to both sets of ears. "I didn't think it was possible but they've actually gotten worse."

It was all the Chief could do to nod without the younger man seeing the tears start to well up in his eyes. Searching for something—anything—to distract him from the moment he reached out and dumped the contents of the bag across his desk. Since the second day of his nephew's disappearance there was little he'd been able to do save this one small gesture and even as he worked on opening up the bills Perry continued to feel helpless and hopeless. Still, he was bound and determined to lend a hand to the Kents in this crisis and make sure that when the dust finally settled all _four _of them had a home to come home to.

He tore into the electric bill as Jim continued to speak. "Lois is still off on her own investigation whatever it is, and no, she's still not talking about it. I'm telling you, Chief, I've known her a long time and I've never seen her this focused before. I know it's all for Jason's sake but her intensity—well I've got to say it's more then a little frightening. She's got the blinders drawn so tight I'm not sure she's even aware of her own surroundings anymore. Chloe and Martha have told her at least a half a dozen times that Haley's staying with Ella and they still aren't convinced she knows her own daughter's no longer under the same roof, let alone the same neighborhood." He stopped and sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "If only she'd let us help out with whatever angle she's working on…"

He sealed the envelope and set it aside. "What about Clark?"

"Clark?" Jim snorted derisively. He couldn't stop himself from the venomous sarcasm that poured forth. "Clark, Clark, let's see…tall guy, dark hair, wears glasses? Oh yeah, I think I remember him. Chief, I'm so mad at him I could kick his ass into next week! No one's heard from him in almost four days! Not his mother, not his wife, not his daughter…" The younger man grew more hostile the longer he dwelled on his friend's conspicuous absence until he finally punched the desk with his fist. "Dammit! It's pissing me off that they're both shutting us out but for him to just up and take off without so much as a word…"

Slicing open the next envelope he glanced coolly over at the photographer. "It's alright, Jim, he's not your father; he's just hurting right now. Clark'll come back."

Jim spluttered. "How did you…I never…when did you…?"

"I didn't get to be Editor-in-Chief for nothing, Olsen," Perry replied, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Really, did they all think all he did was live behind his desk? "But back to the topic at hand I'll admit I'm as surprised as you are at how they're all handling this. It isn't like Clark to run off and conduct a search without her. He and Lois both know they get more accomplished together than they ever do apart." He thought back briefly to the immense drop in circulation when Clark left on his five year trip and then again when Lois went on her maternity leave. The _Planet's_ numbers had _barely _started to recover by the time Clark called to see if he could have his job back; they'd grown exponentially ever since thanks to the remarkable duo.

"…Haley and not being able to get through to her. I've been there, I've been that kid…"

The Chief shook his head. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Jim started again. "I said I think the worst thing for me though is seeing what all this is doing to Haley and still not being able to get through to her. Everyone says she's just in shock but I say there's more to it then that, you know? Something else is going on inside her head that we're all missing and it's killing me that _I_ can't get through to her; I mean I've been there, I've been that kid, and even when it happened to me I didn't react half as badly as she is—though I guess it'd be more accurate to call what she's having a 'non-reaction', if you catch my drift."

Perry grimaced. "She's still not talking?"

The photographer shook his head and slumped more in his chair. "No, and she's barely eating to boot. Ella brought her over for dinner at our place last night—we thought it'd be a good idea to have her around the kids—but Perry, it was like sitting across from a ghost! She's so pale and listless and it sends shivers up my spine just thinking about it. Last week she and the kids were running circles around me and now she's damn near catatonic and I feel so fucking helpless!" He quickly covered his reddened face with his hand.

"I'm worried for the kids too. Both of them."

The men sat there in silence, barely taking notice of the sounds of work coming from outside in the bullpen. It wasn't long before he heard Jim fight back a sniffle. "I know it's crazy but I'm just so close to Lois and Clark and I…I…I think of Jason and Haley like they're my own."

"So do I, Jim. So do I." His hands stopped roaming through the pile and came to rest on a rather large envelope. The packet stood amongst the bills and the junk and so Perry quickly held it up to examine it closer.

It was from Metropolis University, addressed to Jason Kent.

"Shit," he muttered softly.

Jim regained enough of his composure by now to look over and see what had his boss so occupied. His eyes went wide once he recognized the insignia in the upper left hand corner. "He really wanted to go there," he whispered to the Chief, equally awed.

"I know."

"Should we…I mean, would Clark and Lois want us to…"

Perry shook his head. "No." He reached down and opened the bottom desk drawer, slipping the envelope inside. "I'll look after it until Jason comes home. He can open it himself."

With less enthusiasm then he'd come to expect Perry watched Jim nod slowly in agreement. This situation was breaking everyone's hearts but they still had to hold out hope that Jason would come out of this ordeal ok; however, after five days without a word it was getting harder and harder to believe that he'd be coming back at all.

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 6, 6:08 pm. **Haley sat unmoving on her grandmother's sofa, her back rigid, her hands palm down on her knees. The TV was on but she was staring as if she were looking through the screen. She'd spent the last four days in pretty much the same way, never talking and barely moving from one spot to the next unless strongly urged to.

A steaming bowl was plopped down in front of her on the coffee table and Haley turned to see her nana settle in beside her with another steaming bowl in her hands. "I thought maybe we'd eat dinner in here tonight as a little something different. What do you think, Kiddo?"

She looked from her grandmother to the bowl.

_Say something. _

It looked like chili with a generous helping of shredded cheddar cheese already melting on top. She loved chili with cheese.

_I really should say something._

Blue eyes darted back to her grandmother but somehow the words never found their way out.

_Say something!_

A hand reached out and patted her gently on the knee. "It's ok, Sweetie. I understand."

Haley took a deep breath and the frown on her face deepened as she looked at the table again. Nana didn't _really_ understand—not the depth of Haley's guilt or her sorrow for driving her parents away—but without saying so herself what else could she expect her grandmother to say?

_Nothing._

* * *

As she reached out to place a reassuring hand on her granddaughter's knee Ella Lane used every bit of strength she had not to violently shudder. It was unnatural, Haley acting this way, completely and totally unnatural. No child should ever—_ever_—look as lost as her little girl looked now. Ella was grateful to finally be of use to her family but she knew that in her present condition Haley didn't really _want_ her, she wanted and needed her mother and father but that was simply out of the question right now. To hear Chloe tell of it Lois was in no state to support Haley anymore then Clark was around to support Lois.

What a mess. The whole damn family, every last one of them, was coming undone.

Ella let the thought go, trying to keep a cheerful façade up for Haley's sake, and glanced over at the TV; WMLB was currently reporting on the day's casualties from the civil war in East Timorania* the same way they rattled off game statistics for the Metropolis Meteors. With a disgusted snort Ella reached forward and picked up the remote to see what else might be on—there was enough darkness and sadness in their lives right now without world events adding to it.

"And in local news tonight, Metropolans have noticed a disturbing decrease in Superman sightings in and around the city as well as the world…"

"_**STOP**_!"

Haley's shriek sliced through the air and made her heart skip a beat. The little girl reached over and snatched the remote so quickly out of her hands that Ella barely had time to register that it was gone.

"Haley? How did you…?"

* * *

Nana was talking but it was all white noise now, just like everything else around her that she'd pushed to the background; she only had eyes and ears for the news.

"…many speculate that his departure stems from his involvement in the search for local missing boy Jason Kent. Kent, the seventeen year old son of _Daily Planet_ reporters Clark Kent and Lois Lane—the latter of which has been the Man of Steel's press contact and friend for the last twenty-plus years—has been missing since Saturday, March 30th and there have been no new leads as to his whereabouts since that time. There has been no official word from either the Kent residence or Superman himself but it is believed that the Man of Steel has been aiding police since news of the boy's disappearance first came to light.

"However there are those out there who believe his absence from our skies stems not from the missing young man but rather from his own plans to leave the planet again, much like he did eighteen years ago. The handful of verified Superman sightings have been so few and far between as to suggest that he is once again tying up loose ends before his departure.

"If that is the case and Superman intends to leave Earth once more what will this mean for the city? For the planet? And will this merely be another five year sojourn of indeterminate origin or a permanent break from his adopted home world? WMLB has assembled a panel of experts to debate this issue—more at 11."

The reporter signed off and a commercial flashed as Haley's face went slack. If the story was to be believed her dad was acting just like he did before he went to try and find Krypton.

"_Will this merely be another five year sojourn of indeterminate origin or a permanent break from his adopted home world?_"

Her father was so upset he was getting ready to leave the planet just to get away.

Haley's mind raced in a million different directions. She had to stop her dad, she had to do something, she had to apologize and make everything alright again...

_What can I do? WHAT CAN I DO?_

* * *

In a flash her granddaughter started screaming and crying uncontrollably, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her chest trying to stave off the sheer force of her hurt. Ella watched in shock as Haley shouted and cried, sometimes speaking in tongues before calling out for her mother, her father, her brother, for anyone who would tell her how to fix everything that had gone so horribly wrong. When no answers came the little girl's screams rose in pitch and she started hitting herself, slapping herself palm open across the face until the welts were thick on her cheek. The whole time Haley berated herself, condemning her part in the scheme that ultimately let her brother get away.

Ella wasn't sure just _what _about the news report set her off but she didn't have time to really think it over. She reached out to try and stop Haley from hurting herself further and instead was met with a steely resistance the likes of which Ella never thought a ten year old could possess, even if she _was_ the daughter of Lois Joanne Lane. She didn't even see the little girl reach back and shove her away, just felt the ghost of fingers on her shoulder as she fell back against the floral pillows on the opposite end of the sofa.

And all the while Haley raged on.

Never one to be easily deterred Ella reached out again and jerked her granddaughter back hard until the little girl's back was flush with her chest. Haley's whole body was heaving, striving to break the force of the hug, but at the same time Ella felt she wasn't really trying _hard enough _to get away, that she wanted and needed this comfort as much as Ella wanted to give it.

It was hours before Haley settled down and passed out from her grief.

* * *

_**I-95 West, 2 hours outside of Metropolis, **_**Day 7, 7:22 am. **"FUCK!"

Lois pounded on the steering wheel 'til her hand throbbed and then some but the pain only made her angrier. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

* * *

After her conversation with the cashier, Michelle, Lois made sure to speak with both Rick and Sean's parents and discovered that no one—not even the boys themselves—had made plans of any type that resembled a vacation spent scuba diving. The revelation made her briefly wonder whether Jason had even been taking the classes he'd so casually mentioned participating in—_until_ she remembered all the times the young woman said he'd come in to fill his tank.

Surely he had to be using the oxygen for something and if he was as adept at subterfuge as Lois was then Jason would be sure and intersperse a few truths (or half-truths) in amongst the lies; that led her to believe that the ruse of the class might be true while his friends' involvement was false.

For three long days Lois personally scoured all the YMCA facilities in the greater Metropolis area brandishing Jason's senior class picture and haranguing anyone and everyone behind the lobby desks. A few people recognized his image from the news but no one recalled seeing him around or enrolling him in any of their scuba diving classes. She checked the rosters too, scanning for her son's name or any of his three known aliases—Jonathan Street, Jason Lane, Samuel White—and came up with only one potential lead.

It happened mid-day on Friday when she discovered that there was a Stephen White listed on the beginning scuba class attendance sheet at the 64th Street Y. Stephen was close to Samuel, wasn't it? Maybe he was covering his tracks. Sensing a possible connection Lois badgered the staff at the Y for over twenty minutes before they caved and gave up his contact information to her. She barely waited until she was in her car to dial the number with trembling hands.

Truth be told Lois was expecting one of two outcomes: either Jason would answer the line directly or it would go to a pre-recorded voicemail with his voice attached, but either way she'd at least have a number to trace and a new angle to follow.

Three quick rings and the line was picked up by a man with a deeper voice then her son. Yes, his name was Stephen White. Yes, he was enrolled in beginning scuba lessons at the 64th Street Y; he was prepping for a vacation this summer in the Bahamas with his family. No, he didn't know any Jason Kent, Jonathan Street, Jason Lane or Samuel White. No, he didn't recall seeing any teenage boys with dark hair and blue eyes in his class. Now who was she again and how, exactly, had she gotten his number?

A bit more digging fleshed out the picture some more and Lois was disappointed to discover that Stephen White really did exist; he was a 42 year old financial planner with a wife and three kids living in the suburbs outside the city. He really wasn't her son.

Lois cursed the time wasted tracking that information down then returned to the apartment, making over a dozen phone calls to various contacts she'd acquired over the years at the _Planet_. Her lead from Zimmerman's was running on fumes but she refused to let it go, truly believing that there was something there to those receipts from Jason's room. It was almost 2 am when she crawled into bed fully dressed and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

That's when her subconscious decided to kick in and take over the search.

* * *

It was a dream, and yet it was grounded in a memory. They were back in Smallville visiting Martha—one of those wonderfully lazy summer afternoons spent hanging around the farm.

"Catch him, Daddy, catch him!" Haley screamed from her perch on her father's back. They were running through the cornfields at top speed, Lois sprinting right alongside and keeping up with her Kryptonian family with surprising ease.

Clark turned and winked at Lois before answering their daughter. "Oh we will!" He picked up the pace and surged ahead until the two of them were out of sight, leaving only their laughter trailing behind them.

She tried to pick up signs of them in the field and that's when she saw the lanky figure of her son running several lengths ahead of her in the high corn.

"Jason!" His name sounded rough and strange rolling off her tongue.

Not breaking stride he turned around and grinned—that cocky, know-it-all grin she loved and missed so much. "Come on, Mom!" he laughed.

Lois sprinted now, her feet barely touching the ground as she struggled to close the gap. They were on their second circuit when she felt another presence dash in from her right—Clark sans Haley. For some reason Lois began to feel fatigued.

"We…we have to…we have to catch him," she panted, pointing at Jason getting away. Lois stopped dead in the middle of the corn, hands on her knees as she struggled for breath, her humanity finally catching up with her.

"Don't worry, I'll get him." Clark sprinted ahead and began loping alongside their son. She listened to the two of them banter back and forth, their voices starting to grow indistinct the further away they got. The last distinct thing she heard was an off-hand remark from Clark. "Gee, Son, you're almost as fast as me!"

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 7, 5:04 am. **She lunged upright in bed, the sheets sticking to her from the cold sweat as Clark's dream voice echoed in her ears. _"You're almost as fast as me…"_

"_**FUCK!**_" Lois shrieked as she tossed the covers aside and grabbed for her laptop.

How could she have been so stupid, so near-sighted? Jason could practically cross the whole of Metropolis in the blink of an eye, so why would he bother sticking around city limits if he was trying to hide? Staying so close to home he risked exposure whereas a ten or fifteen minute run could carry him far enough away that _no one_ would know who he truly was.

Lois palm-smacked her forehead as the laptop booted up. It was so obvious now that that's what Jason had been doing that if she hadn't been so damn worried about him she would've noticed it three days ago.

She grimaced at the thought of all that wasted time.

_FUCK!_

She brought up a directory of all the YMCAs in the state and transferred it to her phone before running from the room. Lois stopped long enough to grab her purse, jacket, keys and notes before fleeing the apartment. If she hurried she'd be able to get to the one in—here she glanced down at her phone—East Riverdale just as they opened and maybe get lucky and find a clue.

* * *

*Timorania is entirely fictional-just in case anyone was wondering.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Search. Eat. Sleep.

Search. Eat. Sleep.

Search. Eat. Sleep.

It was a harsh and lonely existence but it was better then going home and showing Lois in look and deed that he had, in fact, lost all hope of finding their son alive.

For only the second time in as many days Clark allowed himself to pass out, resting on the ground in a remote area of northern Pakistan where he'd last been scanning for Jason; he would've remained that way for another hour or two had it not been for the unholy shriek that pierced the air and jerked him roughly out of unconsciousness.

Instinctively he reached up to muffle his ears. In all his years he'd never heard so unnatural a sound, like a hundred small animals being pierced through the heart. It was heart-wrenching and terrifying to hear, causing even his supernaturally warm blood to cool as the screeching intensified. Only when the person/animal/thing took a shallow breath was he able to determine that the sound originated from the west.

Another tortured yowl split through the air and was accompanied by a most pitiful cry.

"_**WHY? OH GOD, **__**WHY?**_"

His heart skipped a beat and he leapt to his feet. "_**LOIS**_**!**"

* * *

_**Metropolis, **_**Day 9, 6:25 am. **She returned in the pre-dawn hours, her car creeping along the streets as the city slowly awoke to another day. Crossing the threshold of the empty apartment Lois dropped her keys in the dish and stood just inside the doorway listening.

It was quiet; _too_ quiet. Her nerves strained to the utmost and yet she still couldn't make out a sound above her own breathing.

There was only so much she could take. It'd been 216 hours since they learned he was missing, hours that she'd spent wondering and worrying and waiting. 216 hours spent chasing after whispers and false trails, knocking down doors and harassing innocent bystanders. 216 hours of ignoring her daughter to determine the fate of her son and abandoning the rest of her family and friends and it'd all been so…so…_futile_. Anger and guilt swept over Lois in relentless tidal waves that carried her down the hall and into her son's room without even realizing it.

As she looked around she had only one thought.

She hated him for leaving.

Letting the ambiguity hang in the air for a split second Lois next felt a great surge of guilt quickly rise up and wash it away. She couldn't blame Jason for circumstances beyond his control; Clark, on the other hand, she could blame to her heart's content. He knew full well what he was doing when he took off this time and it looked to her as if he was adapting to life's sad twist of fate and getting on with his own life without them.

"**FUCK!**"

Her whole body trembled with rage and the urge to destroy overwhelmed her. Lois flew about the room laying siege to whatever she could get her hands on; the mattress came toppling off the bed, the sock drawer crashed into the opposite wall, the lamp shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor. In a matter of minutes she'd managed to desecrate more then half of Jason's room yet her fury knew no limits—bed frames, nightstands, posters, closet doors…none of them stood a chance.

Her hair flew out by the sides of her head as she spun around blindly, her hands flailing in search of something new to twist, to crush, to _break_. She was panting hard by the time she neared his desk, her adrenaline beginning to ebb, but she still didn't stop. She tore out the drawers and dumped their contents on the floor, ripped up loose leaf sketches and notes that she grasped, and when she looked up and saw the giant cork board on the wall—mocking her, no less—it too had to come down. Clawing at the wood 'til her fingers bled Lois yanked the board clean off and sent it crashing to the ground.

And that's when she saw it—the secret her son had so vigilantly kept.

Her knees gave out and she collided hard with the floor, the tips of her fingers grazing the thin metal lining soldered clumsily to the back of the bulletin board. It had to be lead—how else could she explain it?—but the flutter of papers bid her look up again.

There, carefully taped to the wall inside the square where the cork board had hung were layers of newspaper cut outs and handwritten notes several centimeters thick so that Lois didn't know where Jason's paper trail ended and the wall began. No one thought, no one even _suspected_ that there was anything back there…which was precisely why their son had gone and hidden his secret right in plain sight.

Just like they'd both taught him.

She scanned the headlines and the more she read the more she willed them to change.

_**Superman Hurtles Luthor's Island into Space; Man of Steel Collapses Upon Re-Entry**_

_**Two Weeks After the Great Destruction Details Emerge in Luthor's Island Plot **_

_**Kryptonite-Laced Mass Settles into Orbit; Scientists Call it 'New Krypton'**_

_**One Year On: Is New Krypton a Threat to our Solar System? NASA Says No**_

_**New Krypton Co-Conspirator Caught in Arizona**_

_**An Interview with Kitty Kowalski, New Krypton Schemer**_

He'd flown, and like Icharus before him he'd flown too high.

Not only had Jason flown to New Krypton but he'd _planned_ his trip, and it looked like he'd been planning it for weeks; how far it was, how long it'd take, how much oxygen he'd need to compensate for even his superior lung capacity…he'd reviewed every angle and covered every contingency to make sure that he'd get there…

…but why? To test a power? To best his own father? To prove a point to them both?

Why, why, _**WHY**_?

Her eyes cast about in confusion and locked onto a calendar on Jason's desk. Nine days. He'd been gone for nine. whole. days. Not even a full-blooded Kryptonian could hold his breath for _that_ long and Jason had only half his father's DNA and a gently used scuba tank to make up the rest.

The most pitiful, ear-splitting wail filled the room as the facts came together and Lois crumpled in half again until her forehead hit the floor. For a long time all she could do was lay there and listen to the un-holy shrieking, too numb with grief even to cover her ears, and only when she sat back up to take a breath did she realize she was the one who'd been screaming.

Jason was dead. Her beautiful baby boy, one of the great lights of her life, was gone, having died a truly senseless death.

"_**WHY? OH GOD, **__**WHY?**_"

Lois felt like she was watching the scene unfold from outside her body. The screeching continued, a vague, distant hum against the backdrop, followed by the equally distant snap of splintering wood. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a figure clad in blue standing frozen near the desk, one hand tentatively stretched out to graze the edges of the paper clippings.

_**WHY? **_

_**WHY?**_

* * *

Clark burst into the room so fast he tore Jason's door off it's hinges. Lois was on her knees with her back to him, her whole body trembling as she continued to wail, her hands gripping and twisting her shirt so tight he thought it would rip. He sped around her and the rest of the carnage and in his haste knocked the cork board into the corner; it was then that he looked down and saw the thin lead sheet covering the back, secured there very carefully by Jason's imprecise bursts of heat vision.

_He…he __hid__ something, deliberately hid something…and from us… _Before he could contemplate the matter further he looked to the paperwork flittering against the wall—the same paperwork that had Lois crying like a banshee—and as soon as he saw the words 'New Krypton' typed out in bold newsprint his whole world collapsed too. Quickly scanning the rest of the notes he saw what Jason had so carefully hidden: times, dates, trajectories, calculations, conjectures, theories—all written out in plain English in his son's uneven scrawl surrounding the articles written by him and Lois.

Jason had been building up his flight endurance (and apparently he'd been at it for some time) but he'd only recently begun investigating the New Krypton phenomena and incorporating it into his routine.

W_hy_?

And then he saw one hastily scribbled word on the corner of a piece of paper so small and obscure he nearly missed it. _Crystals_.

Clark's eyes went wide.

"_They're gone, they're out of my reach on New Krypton and I'll never get them back. Short of NASA launching a shuttle and landing on the g-ddamn thing to get them back for me I don't know what point there is in talking about it! It's not like I magically thought they were going to drop out of the sky someday and fall into my lap..."_

"_Bull! That's exactly what you thought! Maybe not the magic part but admit it, a part of you always hoped they'd be returned to you __someday__."_

"_How many near death experiences do you want me to have? You saw me after I fell, I almost died trying to toss that thing out there, what makes you think it'd be any easier for me to approach it now? There's no way I can get close enough to even search for the crystals, let alone get them back!"_

"_At least now we know that the crystals aren't gone completely...we'll find a way to get them back some day, you just have to have hope!"_

So they _had _been overheard arguing that night. Jason heard every single word and he'd taken it upon himself to…to… Clark tried and failed to swallow down the lump in his throat as the tears overwhelmed him. His legs began to buckle until he fell to the floor beside his wife, burying his face in his hands as he gave in to despair.

Traveling to New Krypton was a death sentence, no matter that Jason thought he was immune. All the time Clark had spent fretting and worrying and trying to find his son alive…and he was already dead.

Their son was dead.

* * *

The curtains had been pulled and he wasn't sure whether it was still light or dark out outside—nor did he care. Returning to consciousness only meant returning to heartache and grief.

Clark inhaled slowly and opened his eyes to find himself staring at the back of his wife's head. He had no memory of curling up around Lois, of wrapping his arms around her as they lay on the floor. They could have been lying there for hours or days simply crying because both their cheeks were still red and flush with tears and he wouldn't know.

Down the hall the phone rang…and rang, and rang, and rang. Clark ignored it; whoever was calling, whatever they were calling about, it didn't matter.

Their son was dead.

He lay like that awhile longer, focusing on the way Lois' chest rose and fell in unison with his own. They just kept breathing—in and out, in and out. It was a cruel joke; God's way of mocking them. He'd taken their son away and now he was mocking them by keeping them alive.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep again because the next time Clark came to he was aware of muffled voices coming from down the hall. Gently he lifted Lois off the floor and set her down on Jason's mattress, tucking a ripped sheet around her and kissing her lightly on the forehead before turning to investigate.

"That…it just can't be…"

"Chloe, you saw what was on the wall same as me and Jim."

"I know, but this is Jason we're talking about! He can't be…" Her voice trailed off into violent tears.

"Maybe he made it back? I mean, Clark survived six whole months surrounded by the stuff, maybe…"

The three of them fell silent and Clark listened on bated breath as they pondered this possibilities, oblivious to his presence. _Prolonged exposure to Kryptonite in the vacuum of space without adequate access to oxygen would result in a near instantaneous death._

An image of Jason alone on that desolate rock, gasping his last and crying out for help only to have his voice sucked out into the void made his heart seize. Though his head told him otherwise his heart wanted to believe Jimmy as desperately as everyone else.

"No Jim, he couldn't. Not like that." Al cleared his throat again to speak just as Clark rounded the corner. "Now I know this isn't the right time but just what are we going to tell all the people who are still out there looking for him? Without a body we can't expect them to just stop and we…"

Clark was barely aware of the fact he'd stepped forward. "Then we'll get them a body."

Three heads snapped up and shared a collective gasp as he entered the room. Their eyes widened at his proposal but Clark was determined and nothing would stop him. He and Lois couldn't even pretend to go on searching now that they knew the truth, but without a body to go on the authorities and everyone else would keep searching and wondering why they'd given up. Lois needed the closure—_they_ all needed the closure—and that meant procuring his son's body so they could plan the funeral…and he was the only one who could do it and bring some small measure of peace to the child he had failed.

His friends recovered a split second too late, their shouts echoing behind him as he darted out the living room window and broke atmo in mere nanoseconds. He never wavered in his flight, just pressed his body upward and onward with all the power he possessed. By the time he began to register the effects of the Kryptonite New Krypton was no longer a tiny speck in the distance but a very large and rapidly-growing malevolent planet.

Dizziness was always the first symptom and even as he surged forward Clark fought to keep from fainting. Next came fatigue, and as the planet drew closer still he felt his limbs slowly turn into lead.

And only after the weariness and vertigo settled in did the pain come.

Fire unlike any other rippled through every cell in his body as he willingly submitted to the torture. He was close enough now to just make out New Krypton's craggy terrain and Clark gritted his teeth as he drew closer still, scanning the ground for his son's lifeless body. It wasn't necessary but he flew in still until he was only a couple dozen yards away from the surface, sweating profusely and hurrying along as his powers drained away.

It was twistedly ironic that Clark almost lost his son to New Krypton when he was a child only to lose him now to Luthor's demented creation when Jason was nearly a man. The madman finally succeeded in destroying his enemy and fulfilling a threat twelve years late and from beyond the grave.

Somewhere in Hell Luthor had to be laughing at him.

A few moments more were all he had; if Clark didn't leave now he wouldn't have enough energy to return home. However, if he _didn't_ leave then Jason wouldn't be alone in the black…

…but Lois and Haley would.

A torrent of fresh, frustrated tears streamed down his face as he slowly turned his back on the damnable planet and began free-falling towards Earth. Once he passed the sun the fog around him lifted and Clark's energy returned, allowing him enough control that he didn't slam into the surface in a dejected heap. As he broke atmo again Clark continued to soar, picking up the pace with increasing speed until the world below froze in place.

_It would be so easy_, he thought. _Nine days, that's all_. _I've done it before, I can do it again_.

It didn't matter that he nearly killed himself turning back ten minutes of time 25 years ago to save Lois' life for it'd been worth the sacrifice.

_Yes, but did the people that died in her place that day feel the same way? _

Clark briefly slowed. Those lives that were snuffed out when the dam broke weighed heavily on his conscience all these years and still haunted his thoughts. 752 lives for one, that was the deal he'd made, and now he was contemplating that type of sacrifice on a much grander scale. How many people were born in the last nine days? How many had died? How many billions of lives outside his family's would be affected if he made this selfish choice?

Atlas never knew how easy he had it; he just had to heft the world onto his shoulders, he didn't have to deal with the minutiae.

_ARGH!_

He screamed long and loud as he picked up the pace generating more and more speed. The world wasn't worth living in unless he knew that Lois, Jason and Haley were healthy and whole. He'd do this terrible thing and take his son's place, then stand before the pearly gates and take His judgment for all the wrong decisions he'd ever made.

In another few seconds he'd break the threshold of the space/time barrier and it'd be almost impossible to stop. The lingering, rational portion of his brain couldn't believe he was going through with this madness but the tidal wave of grief subdued all notions of logic.

**End Part I**


	16. Chapter 16

**Part II**

"**Where It Went"**

**Chapter 16**

**?. **He woke up on the ground, the scent of scorched earth filling his nostrils as he took what felt like his first deep breath in a long, long time. As the second and third breaths rapidly followed the first he felt ready to open his eyes and face the world.

A black night littered with millions of stars blinked back at him over the tops of the trees as his eyes adjusted to the dark. One star in particular waxed brighter, whiter then the rest, as if it were winking at him and sharing a secret, and he found a strange comfort in that without knowing how or why.

The boy could've stared at the stars all night but the weather was too cold. Soon he began to shake uncontrollably and he knew if he didn't get up off the ground he'd catch a cold or freeze to death, likely both. It was as he pulled himself upright position that the searing pain shot through his body and made him clench his teeth tight as he hissed in pain.

His right arm and back of his head were where it hurt most but every joint ached and every muscle felt as if it were plunged in a white-hot fire. Looking down he saw the sleeve of his shirt was ripped and caked in dried blood and as he pulled back the fabric he winced at the deep dirty gash there that was already tinged a light green. Gingerly he lifted his good arm up and felt the base of his skull. There the cut was just as deep and exposed and his fingers went slick from the blood oozing onto it's tips.

He was in bad shape and he knew it.

Very carefully the boy turned about, trying to get a handle on his situation without jostling his bruised and battered body. Somehow he'd managed to into a very large hole in the ground with dirt walls that he judged to be roughly three times as high as he was tall. Did he even have the strength to pull himself out in his current state? Crawling on his knees toward one side he certainly didn't think so but survival instincts overruled and he found himself clawing up out of the dirt. The journey felt like it would never end and as he crested the top he hauled himself over and rolled onto his backside, breathing heavily while the sweat poured down his face, grateful that it was over—for now.

The air was cleaner up here; he could still pick up the charred remnants of a recent fire but it wasn't as strong as in the hole. Before he could relax and enjoy his escape the wind picked up again and chilled him right to the bone. He couldn't stay, he had to keep moving, or else he'd feeze right here to the ground. Mustering up his last reserves of strength the boy clambered to his feet and looked around for any kind of safe harbor.

Every which direction he looked brought him the same view—trees, trees and more trees. He didn't know which way he'd come from and he didn't know which way shelter lay, and as the blood loss started to make him lightheaded he knew he had to make some decisions fast. If he started on the wrong path he might end up deeper in the forest, and if he passed out somewhere along the way he'd more then likely die. Standing there hugging the tree that was keeping him upright wasn't an option either and so he let Fate guide him along, the wind gently nudging his feet forward step by painful step.

The march was long and alternately punctuated by the cold and stabbing pain that were his constant companions. A quick glance at his wrist showed that the watch had stopped when he fell. Was it morning or evening when he'd gotten himself into this mess? Why couldn't he remember?

And how in the name of all that's holy had he ended up out here in the snowy woods without some sort of jacket?

His lips were the first things to go numb, then the tips of his ears and his hands. Each step was becoming harder to take then the last and all he wanted to do was curl up beside that bush up ahead and drift off to sleep. With his lids growing heavy and permanent sleep becoming a distinct possibility he found the forest start to thin out until he stepped into a small clearing where a lone farmstead was perched. There was even a tiny tendril of smoke curling up out of its chimney indicating someone was home.

The boy braced himself against a tree and stared long and hard at the house. He didn't know if he had the energy to stay upright for that distance but he had no other choice but to go for it. With a muffled groan he propelled himself forward, his eyes holding solely on the door.

He made it almost the entire way before passing out and crashing down atop the front steps.

* * *

**?. **There was a low, intermittent clacking sound that brought him back to consciousness followed by the crackling of wood on a fire. Slowly opening his eyes he saw sturdy wooden slats above him that were tinted orange in the fire light. Wanting to get a better look around and see what the quiet clacking noise was he shifted slowly to his elbows only to let out a groan in pain.

The clacking stopped and were replaced by soft footsteps and dragging wood as someone approached his bedside. Through bleary eyes he made out the form of a petite, middle-aged woman who had one long, dark braid hanging over her shoulder and a bit of half-finished knitting in her hand. She placed one hand gently on his shoulder and eased him back into the soft folds of the pillows. "Easy there, you're safe now. Rest."

He closed his eyes and relaxed, sinking deeper into the comforters then before, and passed out for the third time in as many hours.

* * *

**?. **He was being nudged awake gently but firmly, yet sleeping felt so good he didn't want to open his eyes.

"You have to eat," she whispered as he tried to roll away. "You have to keep up your strength to fight the infection."

He opened his eyes ever so slightly and allowed the woman to help him into a sitting position. She took a seat beside him on the low stool and picked up a bowl of warm broth, spoon feeding it to him.

"My name is Sezja, Sezja Demidenka," she uttered as he took the first, hesitant sip. "And you, young one, are _very_ lucky. I thought the fever would carry you off but it looks as if you're going to survive, though you're still too warm for my liking." She lifted the spoon again and he took another small sip through parched lips; only when the broth hit his stomach did he realize he was starving. Sezja kept talking and soon her hand was flying back and forth to the bowl to keep up with his returning appetite.

"Can you tell me who you are or what village you're from? Perhaps I can get word to your family and let them know you're alright."

He swallowed hard. His family…he did have a family, right? Where were they? Where was he from? And, more importantly, who was he?

The answers remained elusive and the harder he thought the more they escaped him.

"I do not remember."

* * *

Sezja stopped with the spoon poised mid-way between the bowl and his lips, staring at him in disbelief. He had no ID, that much she knew. In fact the only personal items he had were the clothes on his back—a dark long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark trousers—which were as nondescript as they were dirty.

She knew that underneath the blood and grime he had a very regal aspect to him, one she hadn't previously encountered in her far flung corner of the world, and now his strange accent and formal speech only hammered home they boy's otherness.

And yet there was a gentleness too; someone who was proud but also very kind.

All this from a boy who collapsed unconscious on her doorstep in the middle of the night and had only uttered four words. Everything about him screamed trustworthy except for the manner in which he arrived at her home.

_I must be out of my mind for doing this, _Sezja thought as she continued to feed him. _But there's no turning back now._

"Don't worry," she reassured him, "You hit your head very hard but I don't doubt your memory will come back in time."

He reached up and felt for the bandage she'd wrapped around his head, cringing at the touch, then brought his arm down and studied the dressing there too, almost as if he were surprised to have any injuries at all. While he took stock Sezja brought a hand up to his forehead to check his temperature. When she found him outside he was unconscious and shaking from the cold but when she'd pressed her fingers to his skin the heat seeped straight through to her bone—even now he was still too warm for her liking but at least it wasn't the raging fire it was before.

"Sezja, … am I?"

"I'm sorry?"

"…am I?"

She stared at him quizzically. It wasn't that he wasn't speaking clearly—he was—but it was almost as though he were speaking another language instead of her native mother Russian. He tried asking for a third time with the same odd inflection and she finally figured it out. "Oh! You want to know _where_ you are, I see! Well you're on my farm about six or seven kilometers southeast of Marakhta."

"Hmmm." He screwed up his lips and she could tell he was deep in thought again still looking as anxious as before. She reached out for the bowl and began stirring the broth before bringing another spoonful to his mouth.

"Here, eat," she urged. "Remember, you have to keep up your strength."

The boy nodded and did as he was told.

* * *

_**Marakhta, Russia, **_**April 2, 2019. **It was Tuesday morning before she allowed him out of bed and Sezja was surprised to find how strong he was given how ill he'd been just two days before. Without any assistance he made it all the way from the spare room to the kitchen table while barely breaking a sweat, the only outward sign of weakness being a slight trembling in his hands. She strode to the stove and heaped out a great bowl of porridge for him, passing it across the table before ladling one out for herself.

"You seem to be doing much better. Do you feel alright?"

He nodded and swallowed his food. "Yes, I do, thank you."

Sezja watched in rapt attention as he tucked in to his breakfast. The boy's appetite grew every day and she wondered how anyone could keep up with his stomach; at this rate she'd be out of food by the end of the week and her store of supplies usually lasted three times as long. She'd have to head into the village sooner then planned if she wanted to keep up.

_Funny,_ Sezja thought as she took another bite, _how I'm already thinking ahead. His family may already be on their way here to claim him._

After living such a solitary life for so long she was surprised at how easily she'd grown accustomed to the boy's company. She'd never been much of a talker even in her youth, but especially after her husband passed away, and she saw little point in conversing with the air and the animals; yet it was nice having someone else on the farm again to talk to. There were still long lapses of silence between them as they felt each other out but the boy didn't seem to mind and as a result the pair of them got along quite well.

But she had to stop thinking like that, had to stop planning for a future that would likely never come to pass.

Not for the first time over the last two days Sezja wondered about his parents and what they must be going through. Had she and Yuri ever been blessed with a child she knew that if he or she had gone missing she'd be frantic. If only her young guest recovered his memory as quickly as he seemed to recover from his illness so she could put his family out of their misery…

And yet…what if his memories came back and he remembered he had no one? To learn that he was all alone in the world after all he'd been through would likely only make things worse for his recovery. Perhaps then, at least in his case, ignorance truly was bliss.

He was scraping the bottom of the bowl and she rose to get some more porridge from the pot. "After you're through we should see about getting you some cleaner clothes. You look to be about the same size as my Yuri—a bit broader in the shoulders perhaps, but I can let out his shirts a bit if that's the case."

"Yuri?" he asked.

"My late-husband. He died ten years ago next month."

"My condolences."

There it was again, that stiff speech of his. He never spoke in more then short clips and phrases too, as if anything longer required more thought and effort. His mannerisms, just like his name, were still a mystery but despite his high talk she never doubted his sincerity. "Thank you. After that I want you to get some more rest; I've let things go around here these last few days and I need to tend to the farm. If you need anything I'll just be outside."

His cheeks crimsoned in guilt and embarrassment and he swallowed hard. "May I help?"

She shook her head. "It is nice of you to offer, but maybe another day. You need your rest."

"Please?"

Just one word spoken with such genuine earnestness that she couldn't resist his gentle pleading or those bright blue eyes. "Alright, I'll show you how to milk Lida and then it's back to bed, understand?"

"Yes …"

She wondered what he called her just then but with his head still hurting she didn't want to press the issue and ask. Sezja quickly learned the longer he was awake and the harder he tried to remember the more easily agitated he became when presented with his limitations, be they real or imagined, and she didn't want to stress him unduly.

* * *

Finding trousers that fit had been easy but finding a shirt to match—now _that _was proving to be a challenge. He stood in the center of the room as she helped him into another top; it wasn't easy given the way he towered over her but Sezja somehow managed and as uncomfortable as he felt in some weird way he got the feeling she liked fussing over him. He buttoned up the shirt and flexed his shoulders and arms, twisting them this way and that to see if the fabric would hold up better then the last time and was happy when it did. She'd been right, of course; he was broader then her late-husband, and he'd already unintentionally ripped two shirts as a result. This blue flannel one, however, seemed to fit perfectly.

"There. It looks good, don't you think? And the color suits you."

She held up a small mirror and he looked himself up and down. He knew it was his reflection in the glass but he couldn't help but wonder who this stranger with the bright blue eyes was—and these days that question occupied his every waking thought. He'd spent countless hours lying on his back recuperating, trying to remember who he was, where he came from and what happened to him before he ended up in Marakhta. Where did he call home? Where was his family? What was he heading toward when he set out, or—and quite possibly worse—what was he running away _from _before he got hurt? And most importantly, would his memory ever really return?

A large part of him desperately wanted to know all the details of his former life while a smaller, more persistent and pessimistic part told him it was better to forget and move on. Unused to feeling so conflicted he didn't know which voice to believe.

More then anything though he wanted to at least have a name. Being referred to by Sezja as 'you' or 'young man' was a constant, daily reminder that the only thing he had in this world was the ground beneath his feet; why, if it weren't for her continued goodwill he wouldn't even have the fresh clothes on his back or the food in his stomach.

With all the uncertainty surrounding him there was one thing he knew for sure: no matter what happened, whether he recovered his memory or not, he would repay Sezja's kindness back a hundred-fold…even if it took him the rest of his life.

Lost in his own thoughts he missed how she'd been studying him, and he turned to catch the curious look on her face; it made him wonder what he'd done wrong. He picked absently at the cloth. _Perhaps this shirt is too much of a reminder for her_…

"I was just thinking," she began.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking that…well, perhaps it's time we gave you a new name; at least until you remember your old one."

A smile broke across his face and he watched hers light up in relief as well; it was as if she'd been reading his mind all along. "I _agree_ with that idea."

Her brow furrowed in confusion again but whatever was troubling her she seemed to change her mind against saying it. "Do you have any names in mind? Any at all?"

He cocked his head to the side and thought hard. For some inexplicable reason he felt drawn to the letter J. "Jasha?"

"Jasha…" She put her hand on her chin and took a few steps around, examining him from all angles. "Jasha."

It sounded like she didn't like it—and now that he heard it out loud he wasn't sure he did either. "No?"

"It's a good name, but…"

"I do not _look_ like a Jasha." There it was, that unusual little face again. "What?"

"Look, you do not look like a Jasha."

The crease in his brow deepened. "Is that not what I said?"

Sezja shook her head no. "I don't know what you said; it's a word I've never heard before."

So that was what was going on each time she got that look: she simply didn't understand him. He tried parroting the word back to her the way she'd said it. "_Look. Look. Look._ Look."

"There!" She pointed at him and her face lit up. "You got it!"

He tried again, making a face as he spoke. "Look."

"Very good."

"It sounds strange—like it is wrong."

"Just like Jasha," she countered.

"True." He moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed while she folded up the other clothes. "Sezja, what would you name me?"

She arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Me? Why me?"

"Why not you?"

It seemed as good a reasoning as any for her and she went back to folding the clothes, chewing on the inside of her lower lip as she worked. The gesture was oddly familiar—like he'd seen someone else do it before when trying to figure out a problem—only in his mind's eye they looked…

"Alexei," she announced proudly. "I would name you Alexei, after my father."

He shook himself out of his reverie and tried the name out. "Alexei." Surprisingly, he liked the way it sounded. Alexei was a good name, a solid name, and he felt that it suited him.

"Do you like it? If not we can change it…"

"No! No, I like it very much." He picked up the hand mirror again and looked at his bandaged face. "Alexei…yes."

She smiled and packed the last of the good clothes in the trunk at the foot of his bed. "There, that should hold you for a while. Now let's take a walk about the farm, shall we?"

* * *

Sezja stopped talking and watched as he stood against the railing, staring out at her fields of winter wheat, the sun full on his face. Alexei seemed perfectly content to be standing there and, surprisingly, he was completely at ease around all the implements on the farm. All this time she'd been working under the impression that he was more of a city boy rather than a country boy; he was muscular, to be sure, but his hands were remarkably un-calloused and he didn't look as if he regularly engaged in the hard, manual labor it took to run a farm of any size, let alone one as small as hers. Apparently that wasn't the case as he looked for all the world like he'd lived there with her his whole life.

Strange.

Just then Alexei tilted his chin upward and his face broke out in a wide, boyish grin. After spending forty-eight hours worrying over him and fearing he might die she was filled with unmitigated joy to see him doing so well.

* * *

It felt good being out on the farm…not quite like he was home but not unfamiliar either.

He hadn't told Sezja this, not when he couldn't properly explain it himself, but he also felt _stronger_ since recovering from the fever and stepping outside, stronger then he had any right to feel after coming as close to death as he had; and then when the sun broke through the few clouds and fell on his face he felt more powerful still…like there was an extra surge of energy coursing through his veins, it was just that tangible a sensation.

But the strangest part of it all was that Alexei felt he could be stronger still, like he was still recovering from whatever happened to him in the forest and he hadn't quite reached his full potential yet.

_Is that even possible? _he wondered._ Better yet, is that even __normal__?_

Until he had some satisfactory answers he wasn't about to go bothering Sezja with the questions and instead set about enjoying the day before she ushered him back indoors.

"Come on," she suddenly called out as she walked across the front yard. "It's time you see the barn." He trotted after her and was almost to her side when she pulled the door open; an obnoxious braying sound emanated from within. "That's Grigoriy," Sezja explained, tilting her head toward the back corner. "He helps me plow the fields and travel to town every now and again for supplies."

Alexei stepped more fully into the barn and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Grigoriy stood in his stall, his braying now grown to a fevered pitch at the sight of the stranger, while a few doors down was a very placid-looking cow. "And who is this?"

Sezja walked over to the cow and affectionately patted her head. "This is Lida." She rubbed the cow behind the ears. "It's about time for your milking, don't you think?" Without looking she reached behind her and pulled the stool off the wall, settling it beside the cow with a bucket ready and waiting underneath. "You won't learn how to milk her from over there, Alexei!" she called out to him teasingly.

He made his way over and she gestured for him to sit down. Leaning over his shoulder she took his great hands in hers and guided them over to Lida. "Don't worry, you won't hurt her, just apply a little pressure and keep up a steady rhythm…"

Sezja started milking the cow with his hands in hers when he suddenly remembered having done this before on a different farm many years ago. It was a sunny summer day in another barn, one that was much larger then this and filled with many animals. He was a child and he was crouched down beside the cow with an elderly woman sitting next to him on a stool teaching him how to milk. Off in the distance he heard the sound of adult voices but they were muffled by a baby's wail.

Without thinking Alexei took over the rhythm Sezja started and began milking the cow in earnest. She watched, dumbfounded, until he completed the job and the frothy milk filled the bucket to the brim without a drop wasted. He stopped and stood up, holding the bucket out to her, but rather then looking pleased with a job well-done he looked as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I…I do not know," he stammered back.

He could've sworn he heard her heart skip a beat. "Do you remember something? A person, a place, anything?"

Alexei shook his head. The memory was indistinct and hazy, frustrating him to no end. "No, nothing."

Grigoriy brayed again and gave voice to the despair that he could not.

* * *

**A/N:** Happy Holidays! Hope everyone likes their gift!

Ok now, show of hands, who really thought I killed Jason? Hmmm? Hmmm?

I won't be able to give a sneak preview (a. because I only have one more completed chapter left, chapter 18 is being a pain in my you-know-where and b. because I'll be going away for the holidays and won't have a chance to respond) but please try and leave a review if you can; they really make my day.

I hope everyone has a fun, happy and SAFE holiday season and I'll be sure and see you all on here next time I post-which will be next year! Oh my!

P.S. Any and all geographical errors, oddities, etc. are my own. Sorry! I'm doing the best I can!


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